


Because I'm Lucy's

by Codango



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Consensual, Crime Fighting, Dark Magic, Dom/sub Play, Drug Dealing, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Investigations, Jealousy, Master/Servant, Mild Kink, Partying, Pining, Protectiveness, References to Drugs, Rival Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:10:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11026407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codango/pseuds/Codango
Summary: A dark guild is distributing an illegal, recreational potion amongst Fiore's elite, and the Magic Council has asked Lucy Heartfilia to use her old family connections to help them investigate. This is a job for finesse, elegance, and subtle inquiry--which means Lucy has to choose her job partner a little more carefully than usual. Her smooth playboy lion spirit, Loke, is damn well stoked to spend a month posing as a servant for his sexy blonde master, but he's finding out that it takes more to fit into high society than simply looking good in a suit. Meanwhile, Lucy is finding out that neither of them is altogether sure exactly who's the master...and who's the servant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Second posting of this work, so if you commented/kudo'd/bookmarked it last time, I apologize. I took it down because I wanted to use the premise of the story elsewhere. I've since decided I don't care if there are two similar stories online if I wrote both of them, so I'm putting this back up on AO3 in its original form.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who let me know you liked this fic and missed it!

It wasn’t something he was supposed to do, but hell, even the Spirit King knew he did it every once in a while.

This time, he’d even said, “Buy her one of those stupidly overpriced little cupcakes. She’d like that.” And he’d handed Loke a weird gold coin that would never be accepted on Earth.

Loke leaned against a wall next to a dressing room and sighed. It was the fifth dressing room today, actually.

“I-I’m almost done!” Aries called from inside. “I promise, Loke! I think one of these will work, I swear!”

 _Dammit, she heard that?_ “Take your time,” he said, keeping his tone casual. “I’m in no rush.”

“B-but you wanted to v-visit the guild today, right?” Something rustled behind the thin door. “I’ll hurry!”

“There’s always people at the guild,” he assured her. “Doesn’t matter when we go, there’ll be somebody to have a drink with.”

A soft giggle made Loke cock his head. Aries was just now getting to where she could smile easily. Laughter was still as rare as an authentic Dragon Slayer. Her last two owners… _pieces of shit._

“Loke.” Aries’ voice was light and… teasing? “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Loke stared at the dressing room door, his jaw slack. What the hell… “Who ever said you were an idiot? Tell me. I’ll kill ‘em,” he added nonchalantly.

“You’re _treating_ me like an idiot.” Another giggle. “You’re not going to the guild to drink with just… just anybody.” More rustling. “Maybe I should be upset? Maybe you’re taking me shopping so… so you have an excuse?”

“Ha. Aries, what’s this all about?” Loke crossed his arms, even though she couldn’t see him. “I take you out sometimes because I can and because you should have some fun. Nothing else to it.”

“You _can_ because you can get through the Celestial Gate on your own and Lucy doesn’t mind.” The dressing room door opened with a flourish. Aries stood there with an armful of minidresses and a teasing smile. “You can because you’re Lucy’s.”

The statement slammed into his chest. “Y-you’re Lucy’s too!” he spluttered. “You finally have an owner who doesn’t mind if you go out for an ice cream and a new dress once in a while — I’m just making sure you take advantage of it!” Loke grabbed the dresses from her and headed for the shop’s counter. “Because you know you wouldn’t if I didn’t push you!”

Aries trotted along after him. “I’m only Lucy’s because of you. And I only want one of those, by the way.”

“Nonsense.” Loke held out the garments for her to choose. “Lucy would accept any Celestial Spirit. I had nothing to do with it.”

“She chose me because I have a connection to you.” Aries set a filmy pink dress on the shop’s counter. “I think she really took it to heart that time Angel told her she didn’t know anything about her Spirits’ relationships.”

“Why are we talking about Lucy? I want ice cream before we go to the guild, by the way.” Loke fumbled with his wallet for a moment before dropping it entirely. The girl behind the counter giggled, and he could feel his ears turning as red as his hair.

“We should get an ice cream for Lucy too,” Aries commented as they left the shop.

“ _What is it with you and Lucy today_?” Loke swung the shopping bag over his shoulder, exasperated. “And we can’t, it’ll melt before we get there!”

“Do you think she likes chocolate or strawberry best?”

* * *

 

The guild’s doors were wide open, like he knew they would be. Music and laughter and cussing and chatter floated to them before Loke and Aries could even see inside.

“Loke!” Mirajane waved them over to the bar as soon as they stepped into the dim light of the guild. “Are you taking jobs again? Come to look over the request board? Have a beer!” She pulled a stout expertly from a tap, sliding the pint over to him. “And it’s Aries, right? What’ll you have today, love?”

“Ah, um.” The tiny spirit fidgeted nervously on her barstool. “Maybe… some juice? Or… well, I don’t really know….”

“Juice?!” A curvy brunette threw herself onto the neighboring stool. “You want a Smoke and Mirrors. Mirajane!” She gestured to the silver-haired bartender. “A small one for the little lamb here!”

“Cana!” Mirajane scowled. “Don’t just order for other people!”

Loke listened with half an ear as the two Fairy Tail wizards argued about Aries’ drink selection.

_Gray’s over there. Should probably say hey. Natsu’s with Erza. She looks annoyed. Must be trying to get her to fight him. Gajeel’s staring down Levy… who’s buried in a pile of books._

But he continued to scan the room. _Ah._

At a far table, a blonde head was bent over a book. Something hot was steaming from a mug nearby.

“Mirajane.” Loke stood. “Add a glass of wine to my tab, will you? Something white.”

Aries leaned an elbow on the bar, her chin in her hand. “Loke is so smoooooooooth,” she intoned.

He glanced at her sharply. The ram spirit’s color was high, and she was clutching a tropical-looking drink. “Oi, Cana, what are you feeding her?!”

“It’s just a little pineapple juice and rum, she’s fine.” Mirajane slid a wineglass across the bar. “Go say hi to your _master_.” Her wink was nothing short of lewd.

Loke grabbed the wine and his own beer and left without a response. He only gritted his teeth a little at Mirajane’s snicker. Aries’ stage whisper drifted after him: “ _Smooooooooth_.”  

_Damn them all._

Fortunately Lucy’s back was to all of them. Loke softened his steps so she couldn’t hear his approach. Her surprised face was a treasure, and he wanted it.

“Hello, princess.” He set the white wine next to her, seated himself on the table above her.

Lucy looked up with a start — _there it is_ — her pretty pink mouth a perfect _O_. It wasn’t the only pleasing view from this angle. He’d be lying through his teeth if he couldn’t admit how much he liked the tank tops she always wore.

“Loke!” Her smile tugged at him, and he felt himself grinning back. “You came through on your own again?” Lucy closed her book. “You must be getting really good at that.”

He felt a glow of childish pleasure settle in his chest. “Don’t sell yourself short, princess. You’re getting stronger every day. Your best spirit can do, oh, all _kinds_ of things now.” He waved his hand theatrically. “Say the word, I can probably make it happen.”

Lucy blushed, and Loke bit his lip. “Show off,” she mumbled. “Stop calling me ‘princess.’”

He laughed. “Is that an order, _Master_? Hey, I got this for you.” He nudged the wineglass. “Don’t be rude.”

Her color deepened. “Just ‘Lucy’ is fine.” She sipped the wine, not looking at him. “You know that.”

 _So damn cute._ Loke leaned his head over hers. “But you don’t mind it when I call you ‘Master,’ right?”

Lucy stared into her wineglass. “I think you just like to embarrass me.” Her voice was low, and it did things deep in his gut.

“Aw, what am I doing that’s embarrassing?” he purred.

She looked up at him, her brown eyes large and dark. “You’re too damn close for one thing.” Her breath feathered over his lips.

“Want me to back off? Or keep coming?” _Okay, you might… be getting a little close to the line there, man._

Lucy stood abruptly, clutching her book to her chest. She looked flustered and raw.

 _Shit._ “Okay, okay,” Loke said hurriedly. He reached for her wrist. “Backing off. Memo received.” He could feel her pulse fluttering like a hummingbird. “I’m an asshole, sorry.”

“You’re too much of a tease sometimes.” She sounded a bit breathless. But she didn’t pull away from his grip, and for that he was relieved.

“So true. And if my master says the teasing has to stop, it’ll stop.” _Don’t say it has to stop._

Lucy rolled her eyes, but Loke saw confidence coming back into her shoulders. “Will you knock it off? The ‘master’ thing —”

_Zing!_

A sharp pain stabbed Loke’s hand, sending it flying from Lucy’s wrist. The air sizzled, and the hairs on his arm stood on end as Loke spun around.

Through the shield he cast around the two of them, he could see a tall, lean silhouette a few yards away. The posture of a wizard on the offence.

“She said ‘knock it off,’ man.” The silhouette advanced. “Let her go. Don’t make me break through your shield, that gets messy.”

Loke glanced down at Lucy, puzzled. “Do you know this guy?”

But Lucy already had the key for Taurus at the ready. Her focus was on the newcomer, her stance powerful. _Hell, she’s hot._ “Lower your shield, Loke.” Her voice rang out. Suddenly he was her weapon; he could feel the electricity of their contract.

Loke grinned and let the magic barrier fall.

“And you are?” Lucy’s voice was polite but barely. The entire guild had fallen silent.

With the shield down, Loke could make out his attacker’s features. Taller than he was by a head. Lean muscle, trim waist, a tattered traveler’s cloak. Dirty blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. And a smirk that zeroed in on Lucy.

Loke narrowed his eyes but stayed motionless.

“Rorke. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss…?”

“This is not a formal introduction,” Lucy said crisply. “You have attacked one of my Celestial Spirits unprovoked, and I will have satisfaction.”

Loke closed his eyes. He liked flustered, blushing little Lucy, but haughty Lady Heartfilia was… _mm_.

“Oh? And here I thought I was rescuing you from unwanted attention.” Rorke bowed low at the waist, a hand at his heart. “If I was in error, please accept my deepest apologies, Madame Spirit Mage.”

Loke’s eyes flew open.  _What the hell?_

“You were in error.” Lucy’s voice had stepped back from the edge of anger. “But thank you for your apology. Loke.”

Loke’s gaze snapped to hers. It was impossible not to respond to her immediately when she was like this. _Damn this contract sometimes._

“Please take our guest to the Guild Master. No doubt Rorke has business with him.” She seated herself at the table again, effectively dismissing them.

Loke’s mouth dropped open. But then he noticed — her shoulders barely shaking. Her fingers gripping the book a little too tightly. “Master.” He nodded his head in a short bow. He raised his voice: “Aries.”

She was at his side in an instant. Her color was high, but her eyes were clear and worried. “Loke,” she whispered. “Are you all right? Is….” She glanced at Lucy’s back.

Loke kept his tone level. “Stay with Lucy until I get back.” When Lucy didn’t protest at the high-handed order, his lips thinned.

“Yes.” Aries sat down so close to Lucy she was all but sitting on her.

“This way.” Loke didn’t look back as he led the newcomer to Makarov’s room. The old man probably hadn’t lived outside the guild’s walls in fifty years.

“It’s Rorke, by the way.” The man’s voice was confident, with a friendly tone that Loke wanted nothing to do with. “Rorke McComey. Sorry about the lightning blade back there. It can sting a little.”

Loke kept his eyes straight ahead. “I’m in no pain.”  

“Of course.” Rorke’s voice sounded like a grin. “I should probably apologize for breaking up your conversation then, since it wasn’t what I thought it was.”

 _This motherfucker_. “Do you often react to situations before you understand what’s going on?” They had reached Makarov’s office, and Loke rapped his knuckles on the door.

Rorke laughed. “I can appreciate that you’re pissed. Lucy, was it?”

Loke turned to face him just as a drunk Makarov swung open the door. “You could have hit her. And if you had, you’d no longer associate your pitiful _lightning blade_ with the word ‘stings.’” He bowed to Makarov, who was quickly sobering. It didn’t take one of the Ten Wizard Saints to pick up on the magical tension. “Guild Master. You have a guest. Excuse me.”

He took his time returning to the guild’s main hall. _Just a visitor. Probably some new applicant._ If the man didn’t know anybody who could refer him to Fairy Tail, he’d have to take a series of aptitude tests. There was all the chance in the world that Loke would never see him again.

_Why does it matter? He defended a woman he thought was in danger._

Loke grimaced.

 _Which should make him pretty cool, right? And you_ were _coming on a little strong._

Loke huffed.

_Okay, but I stopped! No need to shoot a bolt of lightning into my arm! He was probably showing off anyway. First time at Fairy Tail, gotta show off the skills to the guild, oh look, there’s a damsel in distress, fire away._

Loke looked at the floor.

_Did I really make it look like that?_

He paused at the hall’s entrance.

At their table on the far side of the hall, Aries was awkwardly petting Lucy’s head. Loke could just make out a small smile on their master’s face. The wine glass, he noticed, was empty. It had been full when he left.

 _All right. You caused a scene. No more. You keep it together, you stay calm._ He walked toward them, putting on his usual smirk. _And stop flirting._ He cocked his head. He was kind of… known for flirting. He couldn’t just become, well, _Gray_.

Lucy heard his approach and looked up. Her smile looked relieved. For what, Loke couldn’t be sure, but he _did_ know it was for him.

Okay, sure, whatever, his master smiled at him every once in a while.

And if Fucking Lightning Bolts had an issue with it, he could take it up with “Madame Spirit Mage.” _Seriously. Who talks like that?_

Loke picked up Lucy’s empty wineglass and twirled it between his fingers.

“More wine, Madame Spirit Mage?”


	2. Chapter 2

Loke shifted uncomfortably in his gossamer hammock. He blamed the endless months he spent on Earth. He was so damn used to his rock-hard mattress in the Fairy Tail dorms that he could barely tolerate the sparkly luxury of the Celestial Spirit World these days.

He tossed his book over his shoulder, irritated. It hung in the air, magically at the ready. He glared at it.

“You have been pouting, Loke.” Aries materialized in front of him with a puff of pink fluff. She put her hands on her hips, no doubt thinking she looked stern. “For an entire day, I might add.”

Loke looked at her over his glasses. “False. I never pout.”

“Even Aquarius has noticed,” Aries insisted. “And she doesn’t notice anything other than herself.”

Loke waved a hand dismissively. “She is, as you say, an incredibly insightful spirit. No doubt she’s pegged my mood to perfection.”

“Aquarius said, and I quote, ‘Why’s Loke being an annoying little pisser?’”

“Charming. If only she weren’t annoyed by everyone, the comment might be cause for introspection.”

Aries smirked. It was an expression Loke found a little discomfiting, coming from the sweet little ram spirit. “Well. I’ve done something that will probably make you feel better.”

“You smuggled my favorite Earth whiskey into the Spirit World?”

“Better.”

Loke picked up his book. “No such thing.”

“I told Lucy to take you on a job instead of me.”

The book closed with a snap. “Excuse me. What?”

Aries’ smile faltered. “I… Lucy called me just now, and… she has to go on this long job, and… she’d like a companion —”

“That’s what Natsu’s for.” Loke stood, suddenly full of nervous energy. _Back to Fairy Tail. Back to work._

“That’s… that’s what I said.” Aries took a half step back from him. “But she rolled her eyes and said something about ‘transportation,’ and —”

Loke cocked his head. “That’s never stopped them from teaming up before.”

Aries wrung her hands a bit. “W-well, she did say that she —”

“And anyway, why would she choose one of her spirits instead of someone else in the guild? Literally anyone else? Levy, for example, they get along well.”

“ _WOULD YOU STOP INTERRUPTING ME?_ ”

Loke stared at the tiny pink-haired girl, shocked. Her hands were clenched at her sides, and her eyes were glistening. “Aries…”

“I-I’m… I’m trying to tell you something, idiot,” she whispered fiercely. Her face was as pink as her hair.

“I—” But he felt it then, that familiar tug at his heart. _Lucy._ Loke reached for the ram spirit’s face, even as he let Lucy’s magic pull him to Earth. “Aries. I’m such an ass…” He barely caught her smile as she faded from his vision.

Lucy’s bedroom came into focus, replacing the sparkle of the Celestial Spirit World with quaint wallpaper and overstuffed quilts. Loke raised his eyebrows. He’d been in her room once or twice before — a Celestial Spirit went wherever his master called — but it certainly wasn’t the normal routine.

Lucy was throwing clothes haphazardly into a trunk. “Loke! Thanks for coming… Aries said you wouldn’t mind.” She dashed into the tiny bathroom. He heard glass bottles clinking together and muffled cursing.

“Sure.” He glanced around. “You, ah, going somewhere?” A pink strap was peeking out of the trunk. He resisted the urge to inspect it more closely.

Lucy came back into the room, arms full of toiletries. “Didn’t Aries fill you in?” She dumped bath products into a separate bag.

Loke rubbed the back of his neck. “We didn’t have much time to talk.”

“Oh. Well.” Lucy looked up at him finally. “How do you feel about staying on Earth for a month? Also, hi.” She flashed him one of those welcoming smiles that sent heat to his chest. “It’s been awhile. How are you?”

He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “It’s only been a day.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know it’s been three months from this side.”

“Miss me?”

Lucy shot him a look. “Don’t make me regret that I didn’t pressure Aries into traveling with me instead.”

Loke straightened. “That’s right, you said a month. You asked Aries to stay on Earth for a month? You know she’s not strong enough for that.”

Lucy flushed. “Well, I know now. I thought maybe… _you_ even said I was getting stronger all the time!”

“Aries will probably never be able to last more than seven days on Earth.” Loke tried to keep his voice from sounding harsh, but Lucy’s lip still trembled. _Dammit._ “She’s still… she’s been through…”

“I don’t… need all the details if she doesn’t want to give them to me,” Lucy said quietly. She turned her back to him to rummage in a drawer. “And like I said, I know better now. Aries told me herself she couldn’t do it.” She picked up a tank top, stared at it for too long. “That’s why she told me to call you for this. Said if any of the spirits could do it, you could.”

Loke walked up behind her, plucked the top from her hands. “So why do you need a spirit for this job anyway? Nice shirt, by the way.” He let the green material dangle from his fingers.

Lucy yanked the top from his hands, face as pink as ever. “I’m glad you’re so into fashion, Loke. The circles we’ll be socializing with for the next several weeks are perfect bitches about bad style.”

“Oh? Tsk.” He clicked his tongue. “It’s such a shame that my custom summer wardrobe hasn’t been delivered yet. I think you’d love the bermuda shorts.”

She glared at him. “Think suits, not shorts. And I wanted a spirit because I didn’t want to take anyone away from the guild for so long. And…” she bit her lip, eyed him warily.

“And…?” Loke prompted.

“And… I need someone who can blend in with the old Heartfilia Empire crowd.” Lucy frowned. “Most of the guild… I love them. And I’d much rather be with them than be a Heartfilia again, but they’re not exactly up to date with the latest dining etiquette.” She bit her lip and turned away to fiddle with a jewelry box.

“What kind of job are we talking about here exactly?” A month with Lucy, fancy clothes, good table manners… it was slowly adding up to a very unusual job by Fairy Tail standards.

“It’s a special one for the guild, actually.” Lucy selected a pearl necklace and a diamond lavalier that made Loke’s eyes go wide. “Master asked me to follow up on a tip from the Magic Council. Apparently, Fiore’s magical elite are enjoying a new trend involving recreational potions.”

“Drugs?”

“The council thinks they’re being supplied by a dark guild.” Lucy flipped the lid of her trunk closed. “Master asked me if I would make use of my old family connections to see what I could find out.”

“Ah.” Loke glanced at the ornate trunk, so different from the backpack she usually had on long jobs. “Hence the extra clothes and the… jewels.”

“Got to keep up the facade,” Lucy said with a wave of her hand. “It’s a good thing heirloom jewelry is never out of style with that crowd.”

Loke crossed his arms. “I still don’t really get why you need me along. Not that I’m complaining,” he added, offering her his usual grin.

A doorbell rang downstairs. Lucy turned to walk out the bedroom door. “Because I’d love some Fairy Tail help, I’d love to not be alone in that crowd, and you look good in a suit,” she tossed over her shoulder.

When the cabbie came in to haul Lucy’s trunk down to the car, Loke was still standing in the same spot, hand over his mouth, staring at the floor.

* * *

 

The cab ride was quiet, for the first full hour. Lucy could apparently read in a moving vehicle with no ill effect, and Loke… well.

Loke was busy trying to wrap his head around his life for the next month. They’d obviously be staying together. _Right?_ He glanced down to where her thigh brushed against his on the seat. _Spirits, will you calm down? Look at her, she’s cool as a cucumber, and you’re sweating like I don’t know what. This is a_ job _, if you’d care to remember._

A job he still didn’t know much about. Loke rested his elbow on the car’s window. It was unlike the Magic Council to get involved in a guild’s jobs. Although Lucy had made it sound like this was pretty much a job for the Council. Which was also weird. _Don’t they usually do their own sleuthing?_ An image popped into his brain of Lucy holding up that ridiculously long diamond necklace. Could she really have connections that the Magic Council itself didn’t have?

The cab slowed to a halt, and Lucy snapped her book closed. Loke glanced out her window to see an elaborately landscaped mansion. The place reeked of old money and old politics.

Lucy blew out a breath. “Let’s see if I can still do this,” she muttered.

Loke watched, mesmerized, as the blonde mage straightened her shoulders and settled her expression into something like cool disinterest. Sort of like Attack Lucy, only not as electric. Icy. Withdrawn.

Her car door opened, and Loke could just make out a man in uniform lean down to offer her an arm. “Thank you, Rorke,” Lucy murmured, sliding gracefully out of the car.

 _What the fuck? I’ve never seen her wait for someone to…_  An ugly little lightbulb went off in Loke’s brain. _Hang on… RORKE?_

Loke shot out of the other side of the car like Natsu had lit his pants on fire. He stared over the top of the cab to see a tall, blond man in a Magic Council uniform bending to kiss Lucy’s hand.

She didn’t even blush.

Even as Loke gaped, the man straightened and met his eye. _That fucking grin…_

“Oh, Loke.” Lucy’s voice was cool. “You’ve met Rorke McComey.”

Loke smiled, making sure to show off his canines. “How could I forget.” He walked around the car, stationed himself firmly at Lucy’s side. He crossed his arms.

Rorke offered a shallow nod, still with that fucking grin in place. “I don’t believe I properly introduced myself when we met last. Lieutenant McComey. Welcome to the Magic Council’s summer mansion.”

 _The. Fuck._ Loke kept his smile in place. He should have recognized the cocky Council attitude last time.

“Formal introductions are in order then.” Lucy rested the back of her hand on Loke’s bicep, a simple gesture that nonetheless dripped with ownership. “This is Loke, my Lion Spirit. He will accompany me at all times.”

Loke was _fairly_ confident he managed not to react. Not to the hand at his arm, not to Lucy’s possessiveness, not to the _fuck yeah I’m gonna be with her all the time do NOT mess_!

Rorke gave her a patronizing smile. “If you’re concerned about security, Lucy, I’m sure—”

“I could not have been misunderstood,” she cut him off. “At all times Loke is to accompany me. I recommend that you do not attempt to dissuade him from his task.”

Okay, _then_ Loke might have flashed another canine-baring grin. Just to emphasize that he was Lucy’s to command, not because he was happy to see Rorke taken down a notch. Certainly not because he was happy that Lucy wanted him close either.

Lucy turned to walk up the crushed-shell path to the mansion’s ornate front door, leaving both men staring after her. “Loke,” she called over her shoulder. She held her hand out to her side, palm down.

 _Right. We’re showing off? Let’s show off._ He was at her side in an instant, looping her arm through his.

“And while we’re here, Lieutenant,” Lucy continued, not looking back at the officer, “it’s Lady Heartfilia. Have someone bring up my luggage, will you?”

* * *

 

It took not one, not two, but three Magic Council servants to haul Lucy’s trunk into the elaborate suite of rooms that Rorke had shown them to. The Magnolia cabbie had evidently been made of sterner stuff.

Loke closed the door behind them and turned to lean his back against it. “Well, well. I think I’m due another round of explanations, _Lady Heartfilia_. The Magic Council’s summer mansion?”

He watched as the spirit mage slumped to the floor. “Augh,” she moaned. “I am so not used to this stuff anymore!” She covered her face with her hands.

“Really?” Loke pushed away from the door and squatted in front of her. “Could have fooled me. You definitely fooled Rorke.”

She peered up at him. “You think so? I have to fool everybody if this is going to work.” Lucy grimaced. “They can smell fear.”

“Yes, let’s talk about that, shall we?” Loke sat down, crosslegged. “Who’s ‘they?’ Why are we here, specifically?”

Lucy wiped a hand over her face. “‘They’ are the old money of Fiore, like I said. Ha, the ones my family used to pal around with.” Her hand fell, and her expression was stony. “They know of course that my family doesn’t have any money anymore. And the only thing I’ve got now is connections. Stories. Old information. Who knows who, who’s fucked who, who’s certainly never killed who.”

Loke raised an eyebrow. “You know things like that?”

Lucy let her eyes go wide and innocent-looking, plastered a ditzy smile on her face. “It’s easy if no one thinks you know what to do with all those _weird stories_ , I just don’t know _why_ anyone _cares_ , you know?”

Loke stared at her. Blonde, bubbly Lucy, with her short skirts and her big breasts and her ridiculously limited fighting abilities. And enough information in her sharp little brain to make Fiore’s landed rich tremble in fear and bring the Magic Council calling for her help.

“Anyway.” She sighed and stretched out her legs in front of her. “The Magic Council’s summer mansion is the venue for one of Fiore’s most exclusive summer events. A month-long, nonstop party for the country’s richest, most power-hungry people.” Lucy waved a hand. “They come, they go. They trade information, they arrange marriages, they plan political careers, they bribe, they payoff, they strike deals, they shake hands… the lot.”

“... and you are going to do that for the Magic Council,” Loke said slowly. “To find out who’s behind that potion.”

She smiled thinly. “Now do you get why I couldn’t have Natsu along? Finesse isn’t exactly his thing.”

“And you think it’s mine?” Loke leaned back on his hands. It was either that or lean forward, pull her to him, and demand that they go back to Fairy Tail this instant.

“Oh, come on,” Lucy teased. “You’re Mr. Smooth! You’ve got everyone at Fairy Tail in your back pocket, guys _and_ girls. And I can’t imagine that it’s any different in the Spirit World.” She winked at him. “You’re a natural charmer.”

Loke tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. _Fuck me._ “So we’re spies.”

“If… if you want to call it that. I guess. Sure.” She glanced at him. “You okay with that?”

He stood abruptly. “I am here because you are here.” He brushed at his pants. “And I am going to protect you so that you can do your job. Which means…” Loke favored her with a grin. “I am literally never going to be more than two feet away from you. Ever.”

Lucy hugged her knees to her chest and looked at the floor. “I don’t think you have to be quite so clingy,” she mumbled.

“Don’t care what you think.” Loke pulled her to her feet by her wrist. He kept tugging until she stumbled closer to him. “This isn’t a normal job. I can’t just throw magic around to fight for you like I usually do.” _How does she smell so good after such a long car ride?_ “You’ve got the information. You know what to look for. This is your fight. All I can do is…”

_Damn. Her eyes are fucking huge._

“... all I can do is…”

 _God. That body._ Where was Aries to keep him from doing something dumb? Where was Natsu to barge in and ask him for a fight?

“... um…”

 _Her mouth is open._ He lowered his head.

“Lady Heartfilia?” A quick double knock, and then the apartment’s door swung wide.

Rorke had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “Beg pardon, Lady Heartfilia. I didn’t know… that…” He coughed and straightened to attention. “I have a room prepared for your spirit. If you’ll follow me, Loke…”

Lucy sighed, and Loke’s eyes snapped to her face. She hadn’t backed away from him, and her icily bored demeanor was back in place. “Lieutenant, you lack tact.” She draped one arm over Loke’s shoulder. “But I’ll state it plainly for you. Loke does _whatever_ I require of him. And you will not barge into this room again.”

Rorke’s jaw tightened. “Ma’am.” He bowed and was gone in seconds.

Loke watched, dazed, as Lucy closed her eyes and wrinkled her nose. “Bleh,” she whispered. Color rose to her cheeks, and her arm trembled on his shoulder.

_So. Fucked._

Carefully, Loke grasped her wrist and lifted her arm. She looked up at him, confused, as he gently bent it at her elbow and placed it against her other arm. He turned and walked into the first bathroom he saw. The door closed with a very firm click.

“Aw, now, Loke!” Lucy called after him, panic tinging her voice. “Loke, I’m sorry!” She rapped on the bathroom door with her knuckles. “Loke, I swear it was just to get him to leave us alone for good. He won’t try to separate us again, that’s all that was, I promise! Look, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, please don’t be mad. Ohhh, shit.”

Loke sat on the toilet seat, head in hands. Lucy’s mumbled frets barely registered.

_So. Goddamn. Fucked._


	3. Chapter 3

Loke was a Celestial Spirit. And Celestial Spirits didn’t hide in bathrooms.

For long.

Especially not when they heard the doorbell ring and their master saying, “Oh. Of course. We’ll be right down.”

Loke glanced in the bathroom mirror, straightened his glasses, adjusted his tie, and casually slipped back into the living room. The empty living room.

He walked through the suite. “Lucy?”

“I’m in here!”

Loke zeroed in on a closed door and was reaching for the handle when Lucy continued, “You should get changed too.”

He jerked his hand back as though it had been burned.

“There’s a light dinner being set out in the sun parlor.” There was the distinct sound of clothes rustling. “Very informal, just something for the early guests. We’re under no obligation to attend, of course, but I figured we might as well start doing our job, right?”

“Informal… yet this requires a change of clothes,” Loke repeated.

The door swung open, and Loke was pleased that his jaw didn’t drop.

Lucy stood there, barefoot, fresh-faced, hair down, in a sundress he’d never seen before. “Hmm.” She scanned him clinically from head to toe. “That’s not bad.” She reached up and tugged experimentally at his tie. “Should probably lose this though. And the shoes…” Lucy frowned at his polished wingtips. “Can you grab anything more casual from the Spirit World? Unpolished leather if you can, canvas boat shoes if nothing else. Perfectly spotless though.”

Loke raised an eyebrow. In all his daydreams of Lucy yanking on his necktie, she had never lectured him on his shoe choice. “Just checking, again, don’t know if you heard me… I thought this was informal?”

Lucy finally looked him in the eye. “Informal does not translate to careless. If anything, it’s one of the trickier dress codes. No real rules, just a few vague ideas mixed with what’s fashionable this season. Fortunately for you…” She smiled up at him. “I’ve studied for years.”

The sundress had tiny daisies scattered over a blue field. It wasn’t as revealing as her usual attire. But it clung to her curves, and Loke had never stood in front of her like this, not when she was barefoot. _Is she shorter than Aries?_

“Loke?” Lucy cocked her head.

“Spirit World. Should have some shoes lying around. Back in a bit.”

* * *

 

Lucy fastened a pearl earring. She hadn’t expected to dip into her jewelry reserves so early in the trip. It’s not like she had an endless supply, and this crowd noticed reused accessories. _At least they’re heirlooms. ‘These old things? My great-great-grandmother, Duchess of Heartfilia. They go with everything, or I’d have gotten rid of them years ago.’_

She’d leave her hair down. Play up the innocent-blonde look. Tiny sandaled heels. The taller Loke looked next to her, the better. Emphasize how feminine and completely nonthreatening she was.

Not that she had to try very hard.

Loke pretty much absorbed all attention wherever he went — anyone with him would go unnoticed rather easily.

Lucy leaned against the vanity, chin in hand. The Lion Spirit had been an excellent choice for the job after all. Exquisite manners, good style… and each time Rorke subtly tried to take the upper hand, Loke was completely _not_ nonthreatening.

His teeth, for example, were really something. Gorgeous smile, pleasant hello, _these fangs could be in your throat in the next microsecond if you move wrong._ Probably wouldn’t even mess up his suit in the process.

Lucy fidgeted with her second earring. Loke in a torn suit, imagine. His red hair standing on end. Necktie loose, but not gone. Breathing heavy. Sweat.

“So I found these old Cole Haans, do they work?”

* * *

 

Loke glanced down at the spirit mage at his side. Lucy had her arm looped through his as they descended the grand staircase, but she hadn’t looked at him since she’d thrown him out of her room half an hour ago.

Okay, perhaps it had been careless to come back to Earth directly into her bedroom, but it’s not like he hadn’t done it before. Not often before, but definitely before. And it could have been much worse, right? She’d been fully dressed, just putting on her makeup or something, yet she’d shrieked like he’d opened a shower curtain on her.

Loke swallowed, setting aside that image. “So… the sun parlor, you said? Where…?”

“The east side of the mansion.” Lucy kept her eyes straight ahead. “Toward the back.”

Genteel laughter floated toward them as they made their way down a hall. A pair of tall doors were thrown back to reveal a room appointed top to bottom with crystal and glass.

Loke eyed the elegant couples milling about the cocktail tables. Silver-haired gentlemen chatted with perfectly coiffed women of a certain age, draped in diamonds that Loke didn’t think fit any definition of “informal.”

He could sense the stir Lucy was creating as a uniformed server approached them. She ordered an aperitif to start, and he felt the subtle ripples in the social air.

They were led to an empty table, and Lucy blew out a soft breath. She offered him a winning smile, belying their strained silence moments before. “Well,” she said, her voice not quite a whisper. “This is the first step.”

“Drinking?”

“Being seen.” Lucy glanced around the room, a study in approachable disinterest. “Letting them observe. Being judged.”

The server set down two tall, sparkling glasses and disappeared gracefully.

Loke matched her low voice. “That’s our only objective here? We’re not talking to anyone?”

“I don’t have money anymore, and everyone here damn well knows it.” She sipped her drink. “I have to prove it’s in the blood.”

“... What, exactly?” Loke poked at a small dish of canapés that had materialized in front of them. Spirits had hierarchy, undeniably so. But it had everything to do with magical prowess and absolutely nothing to do with caviar on toast.

“If I still belong.” Lucy smiled lazily, as though they were merely discussing the inferiority of the champagne. “If no one speaks to us before the end of dinner, we might as well go back to Fairy Tail tomorrow. No one will tell us anything about the weather, let alone about the recreational drug habits of the elite.”

“Tomorrow?” Loke repeated. “Not tonight?”

“Have you tried your bed out yet?” A flash of the Fairy Tail Lucy shone in her eyes. “They’re incredible. No way in hell did I drive all the way out here, put on this ridiculous act for an entire day, and not sleep eight hours on that bed.”

Loke grinned. He opened his mouth to make some (probably ill-advised) comment, but —

“You’ll have to forgive me… Miss Lucy?”

A portly gentleman in a loose cotton top stood at their table. An elegant lady, taller than he was by a few inches, and a wide-eyed young brunette flanked him. They were all focused on Lucy.

Lucy’s eyebrows shot up, and she beamed. “Lord Darnworthy!”

The gentleman returned the smile, obviously relieved. “Thank goodness, I wasn’t certain if I was accosting a complete stranger…”

“Though I suppose it’s Lady Heartfilia now?” the tall woman asked, a delicate eyebrow raised.

“Technically, technically.” Lucy waved a hand. “Lord and Lady Darnworthy, if you don’t both continue to call me Miss Lucy, I won’t even know who I am anymore.”

 _Smooth._ Loke tried not to let his expression give away how impressed he was. In a simple exchange, Lucy had let her companions know she remembered them intimately and that she was still a member of the elite. _“Technically, technically.” Nice._

“And what should I call you?” The girl at Lord Darnworthy’s side was trim, though a bit taller than Lucy. They looked about the same age, but there was something in the girl’s aura that suggested Lucy was a bit older. The completely awestruck look on the girl’s face might have something to do with it. Loke sipped his cocktail. 

“Emilia.” Lucy’s smile turned to the wattage she used for friends, and Loke stared first at Lucy, then at the slim brunette. “Emilia, if you ever call me anything other than Lucy, I’ll be terribly offended. How are you, love?”

Emilia colored and shyly tucked a strand of her bob behind an ear. “I… I’ve just completed my second year at Elite Girls Academy…”

“In wizardry study,” Lord Darnworthy said in a stage whisper. The man was clearly beyond proud. “She’ll be running the Council as soon as our backs are turned.”

“Dad,” Emilia whispered, embarrassed. But her eyes never left Lucy’s.

Lucy’s smile was wistful. “I always wondered what it would be like to attend. I can’t imagine how much you’re learning!”

Emilia waved a hand, clearly embarrassed. “I’m sure you’re far beyond what I’m able to do… I know you never needed to study hard.”

Loke glanced at Lucy. It made sense that she would have been an excellent student. If she’d studied formally, instead of running away from the Heartfilia Estate, would she be an even more powerful wizard now?

“I hope you’re not studying too hard.” Lucy frowned. “You’re having fun, right?”

“Emilia has a positively glittering circle of friends.” Lady Darnworthy rested her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “Society is something you have to maintain, after all.”

Loke wondered if anyone else saw the change in Lucy’s smile. “So true. Friends are everything. Speaking of which, please forgive my rudeness.” She laid a hand on Loke’s arm. “Milord, milady, may I introduce my colleague, Loke of Fairy Tail. Loke, Lord and Lady Darnworthy are some of my parents’ oldest friends. And of course, their youngest daughter, Emilia, is a student at the Academy, as you’ve heard.”

Loke gave a shallow bow and hoped that was sufficient for etiquette. _Just a light supper, huh? An informal cocktail party? Fuck, I am out of my depth._

“We are so proud of Emilia for the path she’s chosen,” Lady Darnworthy continued easily. “I recall how simply devastated Jude was when he received word you’d taken up with a guild. And with Layla gone too.”

Loke watched as Lucy’s smile tightened. Even Lord Darnworthy fidgeted with his drink.

“Jude was worried to distraction, wasn’t he, dear?” Lady Darnworthy tapped her husband’s shoulder lightly. “It does make one wonder — would the Heartfilia Estate have fallen into such decline had he not been so utterly torn in two?”

 _Yup. Out of my depth._ “Well, that is certainly a _fascinating_ point of view, madame.” Loke gripped Lucy’s elbow in a gesture that was possibly more possessive than strictly necessary. “Miss Lucy, I don’t believe we’ve explored the hors d’oeuvres on _that_ server’s tray over there.”

“Oh… oh, yes. Of course.”

Her voice was faint, and Loke frowned. _That one wasn’t in your playbook, hm?_ Apparently you didn’t have to be a script mage to take someone apart with words. _That complete and utter bi —_

“Lucy!”

Loke wrapped his arm around Lucy’s shoulders but glanced back. Emilia had taken a few quick steps toward them.

“Lucy,” she repeated, a little more calmly. Her eyes roamed Lucy’s face, and the spirit mage tried for a bright smile. “Look, um… so yes, it’s sometimes difficult to find time to relax with all the studying.”

Loke cocked his head. _What the hell kind of apology is that?_

“But…” The tiny brunette chewed her bottom lip. “Well, there are actually plenty of… of… opportunities to lose some stress here. I mean!” She gave a nervous giggle. “We’ll be here for a few weeks, right?”

“Of course.” Lucy’s eyes had regained some of their Fairy Tail spark. “There will be lots of students here, I imagine. Wizards and nonwizards alike.” She smiled, and the effect was disarming. “I’d be very surprised if you all hadn’t figured out how to take full advantage of a few weeks away from study.”

Emilia swallowed. “There’s a cocktail party on the lawn tomorrow,” she said hurriedly. “Will I… will I see you there?”

Lucy’s lips curved into a sweet smile that Loke had, quite frankly, never seen before. “Are you asking me to be there?” Her voice wasn’t… low exactly, he reflected. But it held a tone that slunk into the back of his brain and sat there, purring.

Emilia flushed pink. Again. “It’s at 9. I heard.”

She didn’t exactly run back to her parents’ table.

Loke selected something red and creamy from a passing tray. “So she’s cute.”

Lucy shot him a look. “Hey, now, Lion Spirit. We’re working, remember?”

He met her gaze. “ _You_ got to flirt with her.”

“Flirt—! Me?” Lucy pretended to watch a server handing out drinks. “You’ve been in the Spirit World too long if you thought that was flirting.”

“It was obviously flirting for her.”

She blew out an exasperated breath. “She might know something. I was just… being friendly. She’s a college student! They overreact to everything!”

“Hm.” Loke leaned forward, forcing her to look up at him. “Should I be offended then that you’re never quite so friendly with me?”

Lucy’s mouth dropped open. Swallowing hard, she glanced around quickly. In a moment, her aristocratic facade was back in place. “You’re my servant right now,” she reminded him, her voice quiet. “We both have a performance to put on.” She picked up a tiny chocolate truffle sprinkled with sea salt. Held it out to him with her forefinger and thumb.

Her eyes held his, her look some odd mix of a dare and a plea. “Say ‘ah,’” she ordered.

Her voice wobbled a bit, but the command was more than enough to send heat to the tips of his ears. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered. He sucked the candy gently from her fingers, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Yes. Well.” Lucy cleared her throat after a moment's pause. “I think that’s enough socializing for one day. We’ll learn more at the party tomorrow night, no doubt.” She turned and walked toward the double glass doors leading back into the mansion’s depths. “I’m sure Lieutenant McComey will have high expectations. Let’s avoid him tonight if we can.”

“Ma’am.” Loke was about to follow, but he caught sight of a tiny young brunette staring at him from across the room.

Gone was the school girl blush. Instead of eyes wide in awe, her jaw was tight, her lips playing with a humorless little smile.

Loke smirked. _Told you, Lucy._ He inclined his head in a neat bow. And licked his thumb as he straightened.

Emilia raised an eyebrow. She rested her hand under her chin, her middle finger straight against her cheek.

He turned on his heel with a grin. _What a relief. To think I was afraid this was all out of my league._

Fortunately, he knew how to handle another player.


	4. Chapter 4

It probably wasn’t strictly necessary for Loke to keep Lucy’s arm through his on their way back to their suite. But she wasn’t protesting, so…

Loke glanced down at her. In fact, she seemed damned preoccupied. She stared sightlessly at the marble tiles as she walked.

He cleared his throat. “So, ah… did we learn anything tonight?” _Work. Keep it about the job._

Lucy’s laugh was humorless. “Well, we learned that I’m more out of practice with this little scene than I thought I was. Heh. How could I have forgotten the shitty barbs disguised in haute couture?”

“Oh.” Loke looped her arm through his a bit more tightly. He’d been feeling so good about pissing off that little brunette flirt that he’d forgotten about the witch that was her mother. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Luce.” _What a bitch, suggesting it was Lucy’s fault her dad lost the family fortune._ “You know none of that was true, right?”

Lucy sighed. “Oh, who can say, you know? My mom died, I ran away… it could have been the last straw in my dad’s good business sense.”

Loke stopped short, took her by the shoulders to face him. “Now you know that’s not right. You told me your dad joined that merchant’s guild after he asked you for money that one time. And he did pretty well for himself there, yeah?”

She was still looking at the floor. “But maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d stayed? Maybe he wouldn’t have… and then I wouldn’t have been gone for… for seven years, and he and I —”

He lifted her chin with a forefinger. “You can’t do that. The what-if questions never help. You are asking about a completely different life than what you’ve created.” Loke tried to keep his voice matter-of-fact, but _dammit_. “You’re talking about never becoming a Fairy Tail wizard. Never teaming up with Natsu and Happy. Never talking about books with Levy. Never…” _Never meeting me._ “... Never being my Celestial Spirit mage.” He tried for a smile.

Lucy rolled her eyes, but he could see a hint of a blush. “You would have been fine.”

 _I probably would have been dead actually._ But this was definitely not the moment to go that deep. Loke shrugged. “I might have found you. Your mother was a spirit mage, right? And if you’d kept studying…” He tugged at her arm, and Lucy fell into step with him again. “Do you think you would have gone to that fancy-ass school your friend’s going to? Elite Snobs Club or something?”

She swatted his arm. “Elite Girls Academy. And probably.” Lucy smiled, and he relaxed. “My mother went there.”

“Ah, well, if Layla attended, I shall reserve my judgment.”

“It’s a good school, Loke! Emilia will go far, I’m sure.”

“Far is good.” Loke nodded. “As far as possible.”

“Loke!” Lucy shot him a harmless frown. “You just met her! There’s absolutely no reason for you to be like that already.”

“So you think I _will_ dislike her though.”

“Stop.” She squeezed his bicep with one hand and held his forearm with her other. Loke tried very hard not to grin. “Emilia’s a lovely girl, not to mention my friend. Your territorialism is flattering no one.”

They were at their door, and Lucy flipped open her clutch for the key to the suite.

Loke watched her hair fall over her pale shoulders. He leaned against the wall beside the door. “Lion Spirit. I do take after my earthly cousins like that.”

She looked up at him with a laugh. “You’re not an animal, Loke. Much as you’d like to believe you are.” And she moved to put the key in the lock.

Loke moved smoothly to stand behind her. He didn’t quite press her against the door. “You’re my spirit mage,” he said quietly. “I’d rather let everyone know I’m not good at sharing.”

He could feel her freeze. Then she raised a hand to the door, slowly. “And you’re under contract to me.” She didn’t turn around. “You come when I call, not the other way around.”

But her voice was almost timid, like it always was when Lucy talked of being his master. If they ever found a way to bottle that heady combination of reluctant authority, he’d challenge Cana to a drinking contest.

Loke put his hand just a few inches higher than hers on the door. Leaned over the top of her head just barely. “You’re saying you get to be territorial and I don’t?”

She straightened her shoulders, but he could hear her breathing pick up speed. “I’m saying there’s no need —”

“I seem to have a knack for interrupting moments.”

Only Lucy’s hand suddenly on Loke’s wrist kept him from spinning around. She kept his hand pinned to the door. She didn’t bother turning around herself. “Lieutenant McComey. You have ceased to surprise me.”

Loke stared at the back of her blonde head. _How can she flip that switch so quickly?_ Her breaths came slow, her voice was steady. Maybe he didn’t fluster her as much as he thought he did. The idea was a little annoying.

“How was dinner,” the lieutenant prompted.

Lucy finally turned and leaned against the suite’s door. Her look was all bored annoyance. “As refined as can be expected for the first night, I suppose. The kitchen is probably still getting up to speed.”

Loke glanced over his shoulder in time to catch Rorke McComey’s thin smile. “I was actually inquiring after your work,” he said, taking a few steps closer. “But if you have complaints about the menu, I’m sure you know who to ring for that.”

“Lieutenant.” Lucy’s voice was flat. “I have spent several hours traveling today, and I’ve expended all the energy I care to for the present. Now.” She opened the door and turned to step inside. “If you require daily updates, I am willing to entertain the idea tomorrow. Accosting me outside my door at the end of a long day is not the best way for the Council to receive accurate and detailed reports. Good night, sir.”

“Accosting —”

“Go ahead and get ready for bed, Lucy,” Loke said quickly, reaching for the door knob. “I can bring the lieutenant up to speed.”

Lucy’s face went red. “Loke! You don’t have…”

“No, no, it won’t take long.” His voice was breezy as he tugged the door closed. “I’ll be in in just a moment.”

“Loke —!”

Loke shut the door and turned back to the tall officer. The man looked ready to spit nails, probably into Loke’s eyeballs for preference.

“I have no intention of getting the Council’s information from you, spirit,” Rorke gritted.

“Why ever not? I was there the entire time, heard everything she heard.” Loke crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I’m not as pretty as she is, I grant you. But that shouldn’t matter to an officer and a gentleman like you.”

Rorke pinched the bridge of his nose. “Miss Heartfilia’s appearance —”

“Lady Heartfilia, I heard.”

“... _Lady_ Heartfilia’s appearance is hardly the point, spirit.”

“Loke is fine.”

Rorke grinned. He managed to show quite a lot of teeth. “I don’t give any shits about the names of nonhumans.”

“Oh good.” Loke pushed himself away from the wall. “We’ve finally taken the gloves off. That was getting boring.”

“If you so much as breathe on me, I have much stronger resources available than my lightning blade.”

“Promise?” Loke stepped closer.

Rorke swept his officer’s cloak back from his shoulder to reveal the magic-endowed baton of the Council. They amplified their user’s magic to a nasty degree. “I’d never lie to a servant of Lady Heartfilia.”

“See, now, I think you were trying to piss me off just then…” Loke was in Rorke’s face. “... but I kinda like her being my master.”

Rorke sneered. “Spirits are repulsive like that.”

“Oh, no, that’s special to just me, I’m afraid. My own little thing. Although Taurus is… questionable,” Loke admitted. “He’d probably let anyone be his master as long as she was a D cup.”

“Vulgar.”

“Me, on the other hand, I’m Lucy’s. The end.” Loke brushed an invisible speck off of Rorke’s cloak. “Try not to annoy her anymore, all right?”

Rorke grabbed his wrist. “Know your place, spirit. You take orders, you don’t give them. The Council requires regular reports on Lady Heartfilia’s investigation. I will receive them only from her. You can continue to be her bodyguard or valet or _whore_ or whatever the hell you are if it doesn’t interfere with —”

A pulse of golden light threw Rorke into the opposite wall.

Loke walked over to where the man lay groaning on the floor. “I’ll be with Lucy twenty-four-seven as long as we’re in this self-important rock pile. She’ll do an excellent job for the Council because that’s what she’s promised to do, and the Council will get their damned regular reports.” He knelt and slipped Rorke’s baton from his belt. “And you’ll take them from me or Lucy or the fucking butler with a note on a napkin.”

Loke flipped the baton once, twice, then tucked it back in the lieutenant’s belt. He stood and tugged at his jacket lapels. “Thanks for staying an extra minute for the chat. I feel better, don’t you?”

* * *

 

Lucy was sitting on the floor staring at the door when Loke walked back into the suite.

“Lucy —?”

She was on her feet in an instant, hands beating his chest. “What the hell did you just do?” she hissed. “I heard your magic, don’t think you can hide it!”

“We were having a little friendly contest. You show me yours, I show you mine… that kind of thing.” Loke grinned. “You know how boys are.”

“No. No, you’re not pulling that nonsense, and I’m not falling for it.” She grabbed his tie and yanked his face closer to hers. “Loke. What. Happened.”

Her brown eyes were stern, and her color was high. _Fuck._ Loke licked his lips. “He, ah, doesn’t seem to care for spirits much.”

Lucy’s grip tightened. “What?! And?”

“And? And… I might have suggested that he leave you alone? Sort of?”

She closed her eyes with a grimace. “Lokeeeeeee.” She slammed her forehead against his chest. “We are working with him! You have to be nice, dammit!”

Lucy was still in her blue sundress. Loke patted her head hesitantly. “I started out nice,” he protested.

“And then you used your magic on him,” Lucy mumbled.

He let his hand fall to smooth her hair. It had gotten so long. “A lot happened between this and that and the other. He initially only wanted to accept reports from you.”

Lucy looked up with a frown. “You’re a Fairy Tail mage too. And they’ve hired Fairy Tail, not me. Technically.”

His hand stopped at her lower back. “I really don’t think that’s how the good lieutenant sees this going at all.”

Lucy covered a yawn. “Ugh, what a pain. I guess we can work out tomorrow how to pass information along.”

“Yeah…” He didn’t release her. “You didn’t get ready for bed like I told you.”

She reached up and flicked his forehead. “‘I’ll be in in just a minute,’” she repeated mockingly. “Like I was going to do anything but stare at the door until you got back.”

Loke grabbed her wrist. “Aw, you were worried?”

_There’s that blush._

“I was afraid you’d kill him,” she said, her eyes not leaving his.

“So kind of worried.”

“Not about you.”

They watched each other for half of a moment. His arm around her waist, his hand grasping hers against his chest. _God, her eyes are huge._

“I…” Lucy began. “... I… bed. Gotta… brush my… face. And… teeth?”

 _Not tonight. Down, boy. Back away slowly._ Loke let his arm fall to his side. He kept his grip on her hand as she stepped back.

“Yeah.” Loke let out a breath. “Lucy.”

She paused, eyebrows lifted.

With the most feather-light touch, Loke pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. When he raised his head, her eyes were bright, her expression confused and pink.

Loke made himself grin his usual cocky smirk. “You were amazing today, master.” He straightened and released her hand. “I’m sure we’ll get much further tomorrow.”

Lucy’s eyes went wide, and she clutched her purse to her chest. “Oh. Oh god.”

It wasn’t until he heard her bedroom door click shut that Loke wondered if his last sentence had, perhaps, been poorly worded.

* * *

 

Lucy never had trouble sleeping.

Well.

Usually never.

But, ta-da, here she was, lying awake under the covers, staring at the gray dawn outside her window. As alert as if it were noon.

 _Goddamn Loke._ Lucy chewed her bottom lip. Lieutenant McComey was… unsavory, to say the least, but he was their liaison with the Magic Council. She rubbed the heels of her palms into her eyes. _We’ve got to be professional._

Still. She gnawed on a knuckle. She wouldn’t be able to call another spirit to her defense, not while Loke was on Earth taking up pretty much all of her magical power. She was essentially without magic for the time being, except for her whip. Which was not an accessory in high fashion at the moment.

So. So it might be somewhat good that Loke was able to display some magic power. Just to, you know, leave the hint that she wasn’t without defense. The Magic Council didn’t exactly have a history of being incredibly kind to Fairy Tail. It was good to be on guard.

_Maybe you should wonder if you have to be on guard against your Lion Spirit backing you up against a door the way you like._

“Ugh.” Lucy tossed off the covers. _Caffeine. I’m awake! Just get up!_

If this year’s gala was anything like the brief years she remembered attending with her mother and father ( _god, so long ago_ ), there would be an all-night tea cart stationed just outside the dining hall.

She tossed on a robe, smiling as a memory drifted to her.

 _“Saints preserve us, Layla, will you just_ ring _for tea like a normal person?”_

_“Jude, love, normal people make their own tea in their own kitchens. Or so I’ve heard.” Layla Heartfilia tied the sash of her robe firmly. “I am going to go get some from an adorable little cart that’s set out just for people like me who don’t know how to make tea. Lucy, darling, come with Mommy, won’t you?”_

_“You should show her how to order it from a servant, dearest.”_

_“Maybe they’ll have cookies, Lucy, what do you think of that?”_

…

The marble halls were quiet this time of morning.

And there was the tea cart. Polished brass and white china mugs at the ready.

Lucy breathed in the scent of hot tea and exhaled with a contented sigh. _Lavender._ She poured herself a mug, grabbed a promising-looking cookie, and padded over to see if that window alcove she remembered was still there.

 _Mmmm._ Gauzy curtains fluttered in a light breeze, hinting at the presence of an inviting little window seat. A perfect place to let your mind unwind with a calming beverage…

“Oh!” Lucy gripped the curtain in surprise. “Excuse me, I wasn’t expecting —”

A young, green-haired mage uncurled herself from where she reclined on the padded bench. “So sorry to have alarmed you. Please.” She gestured at the empty cushions. “Have a seat anywhere.”

“Are you sure?” Lucy slid onto the bench. “Thanks! It’s just that I remember this place from when I came here with my mother… ha, but that was a long time ago… ah!” She broke her cookie in half and reached over. “Would you like a bite? They’re very good! Well, I remember them being good, so I guess it could have changed, but —”

The girl cocked her head. “Do you normally talk this much or only when you’re nervous?”

Lucy blinked. _Was I rambling?_ “Oh… um. I’m not particularly nervous.” She withdrew the bit of cookie. “I guess I —”

“Relax, no one’s judging you for feeling out of place.” The girl waved a hand.

“I… I wasn’t —”

“It’s okay to let down your guard once in a while, you know. There’s so much pressure on us to perform all the other months, after all.”

“Oh, where are my manners,” Lucy said brightly, trying to keep annoyance out of her voice. “I’m Lucy. And you are…?”

“Names.” The girl rolled her eyes. “Why are names so important to you people?”

 _You… people?_ “For one thing, they’ll keep me from thinking of you as that rude green-haired girl,” Lucy snipped. “But it’s not up to me how you’d like people to refer to you, I’m sure.”

The girl’s mouth dropped open a tad. “Well, aren’t you more fun than I thought you’d be?” She grinned and offered a lazy hand. “I’m Gladys. Popped in here to unwind a bit before, you know, starting the day.” She gave an exaggerated arm pump.

“Ah? Well…” Lucy made to stand. “If you’d like to be alone…”

Gladys shrugged. “Suit yourself. I just need a few minutes, then I’ll be good to go for the rest of the day.”

Lucy paused. She squinted into the girl’s eyes. One of them had gone black. The other was a pinprick in a field of white.

Gladys leaned her head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling with sightless eyes. “Just… a few… is all…”

And she slumped to the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

“Loke.”

Loke threw an arm over his eyes. “Mf?”

“Loke. _”_

 _Too damn early for this bullshit…_ But Loke opened one eye blearily. And then both eyes. Wide. “L-Lucy?”

She was standing over where he lay in bed, her blonde hair loose. Her robe was open a little carelessly. He may or may not have gaped.

The blonde wizard smirked. “You like Lucy’s body.”

Loke’s eyes snapped up to her face. He knew he was blushing. “I… I don’t —”

Lucy leaned farther over him. “You _like_ that Lucy came to you like this,” she whispered.

Loke cocked his head. _Is she… drunk?_ She was so close. He couldn’t smell anything like alcohol on her breath. He felt her soft laugh on his face. Her throat was long and white, leading into an enticing expanse of smooth skin, all elegant collarbone and gentle curves. Her brown eyes were sparkling even in the low gray light of morning. It would take next to no effort to reach out, see if she would respond to an arm behind her shoulders.

As though she could read his thoughts, Lucy’s eyes went wide. She gasped softly. “You want Lucy like _that_!” She brought a hand theatrically to her mouth.

As fascinating as the situation was, there was something… not quite… Loke squinted. “Lucy?”

She straightened and crooked a finger at him. “She wants you to come.”

Ordinarily, that phrase from those lips would be nothing short of incendiary. But Loke shook his head. “Come where?” he whispered.

“Come,” she repeated, backing out his bedroom door.

Frowning, Loke kicked off the bedcovers. “What… Lucy?” He stumbled after her, out into the suite’s foyer. He would normally have felt self-conscious being only in his boxer briefs, but he grabbed her arm before she could lead them out into the hall. “What’s going on —?”

And he knew.

Loke dropped her arm and threw both hands into the air in exasperation. “Gemini.”

Gemini Lucy grinned, a teasing smirk that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the real Lucy’s face. “Fooled you,” she cooed.

Loke crossed his arms across his bare chest. “What are you doing?”

“Lucy wants you to come,” the spirit double repeated. She tugged at his arm.

Loke’s ears stood straight up. “Is she all right? Where is she? Pants. Shit. Gotta get—”

“Lucy is healthy,” Gemini chirped. “She just needs your help.”

Loke darted back to his room. He glanced over his shoulder as he rummaged through his luggage. He hadn't bothered unpacking. “She needs my help… but she’s fine?” He tugged on a pair of pants and grabbed a T-shirt on the way out the door.

“She is with an unconscious young woman and told me to come get you.” Gemini led the way down the marble hall.

“An unconscious… and she’s dressed like that?” Loke eyed Gemini Lucy’s backside, distractingly clothed as it was by a blue bathrobe.

“You like Lucy’s body,” Gemini sang, looking over her shoulder with a self-satisfied air.

Loke blew out a breath and grabbed the spirit double’s upper arm. “Just… come on.” A disturbing thought landed in his brain. “Um… you’ve got all of Lucy’s knowledge right now. Right?”

“Up until the moment she called us,” Gemini confirmed, struggling to keep up with Loke’s pace. “Why?”

“That, uh, that doesn’t go both ways… does it? Like, when you go back to being yourself, what you learned as ‘Lucy’ doesn’t, I don’t know, transfer to her, right?”

Gemini may be young at heart, but the spirit wasn’t naive. Unfortunately. “Only if we tell her. Why?”

Loke glared at the mischievous spirit but was able to keep his mouth closed. The surest way to get Gemini to do exactly what you didn’t want them to do was to spell it out for them. He imagined it was kind of like having younger twin siblings. That were never ever going to grow up.

* * *

 

The morning light was changing from gray to gold when Gemini pulled back the curtain to the seating alcove.

Loke’s eyebrows shot up.

Lucy was kneeling on the floor, an unconscious girl’s head in her lap.

“Loke!” Lucy sighed in relief. She looked pale, and a fine sheen of sweat stood out on her brow. “This girl collapsed. Help me get her to our room, will you?”

Loke knelt quickly at the girl’s side, tested her pulse. “What, she just collapsed in front of you? Shouldn’t we get her to a doctor?”

Lucy chewed her lower lip. “I think… I think Rorke should see her first.” She swiped a hand over her forehead.

Loke eyed her. “First, send Gemini home. You’re not good to anyone passed out yourself.”

Lucy blinked. “Oh. Oh, right. I’d forgotten I’ve got you here too.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, you know what I meant.” Lucy gave Gemini’s key a swish. “Thanks, Gemini. You were very quick about bringing him here.”

“Quick?” Gemini transformed back into its two doll-like spirits with a faint pop. “Loke was the one who dragged —”

“Yes, yes, thanks, Gemini, leave already,” Loke interrupted.

“Loke’s meeeeaaann,” the spirits sang, and they faded into a cloud of gold.

Lucy leaned back against the window seat with a sigh. “I’d forgotten how long I’ve kept you here. I didn’t think Gemini would take much since they wouldn’t be fighting, but…”

Loke scooped up the green-haired woman from Lucy’s lap. “Let’s get you both back to our room. Can you stand? I don’t think I can carry both of you.”

Lucy stood, steady on her feet but obviously tired. “I never thought I’d hear you admit you couldn’t take care of two women at once.”

His mouth gaped, but he recovered quickly. “Well, if you ever want to test my abilities, just say the —”

“Oh, shush. Gladys might hear you.” Lucy gestured to the unconscious young woman in his arms.

Loke eyed the girl dubiously. Her head lolled against his chest, she was breathing a little noisily through an open mouth, and he could just make out slivers of white underneath barely closed eyelids. “You know how much I hate to disagree with you, princess, but I don’t think she’s absorbing much right now.”

He shifted her into a better grip as they made their way slowly back to their suite. “You wanna tell me what happened before we get the dear lieutenant involved?” Loke asked. “Good ol’ Gladys looks high as fuck, to be honest.”

Lucy scowled up at him. “Why am I not shocked that you know what that looks like.” She shoved her hands into her robe’s pockets. “I’m not exactly sure myself. I was going to have a seat with some tea and a cookie, and there she was. Looked fine at first, had a few words, and I was just about to decide that I didn’t like her that much when she turned into this.” Lucy nodded at the girl.

Loke raised an eyebrow. “Lucy Heartfilia decided she didn’t like someone after a two-minute conversation? What on earth did she say?”

She shrugged. “It was petty of me. She just reminded me a lot of the bored ‘friends’ I had at her age. You know, ‘I’m so over being wealthy, can you believe my parents won’t give me two million jewels for these designer shoes, sometimes I think I’d be happier if we were poor, you know?’” Lucy blew out a breath. “Et cetera.”

“You got all that from thirty seconds of sharing tea and cookies with this girl, did you? You got the key handy?” Loke stopped at their door.

“It’s an attitude, Loke.” Lucy unlocked the suite. “She’s so overprivileged, she’s positively bored with life, she thinks she’s seen everything there is to see, and she’s the only one in her social set to be so enlightened.” She spread a blanket on the couch.

Loke settled Gladys on the couch, resisting the urge to try to close her mouth. The girl was all but snoring now. “So she struck you as a little pretentious, and what… you clocked her to get her to shut up?”

“No.” Lucy crossed her arms. “She was saying something about needing a few minutes before she started her incredibly difficult day of being waited on hand and foot, and then her eyes did this weird thing, and she pretty much fell over.”

“You are really not into the privileged seeing their privilege, are you?” Loke studied the girl on the couch thoughtfully. “Not everyone’s as strong as you are, you know.”

Lucy’s hands fell to her sides. “Wh-what? What are you talking about?”

“Not many people can just change their life when they want to.” Loke crossed the room to where a private communications lacrima sat on a fragile table. “She probably can see all the things you saw about this life. But it takes a lot of strength to leave. It’s easier to be condescending about it.” He tapped the lacrima globe. “Lieutenant Rorke McComey. Fuck, it’s even easier to say, ‘yeah, I’ll have one of those,’ if it means not facing another day in a gilded cage. No wonder a dark guild targeted this set with a recreational potion.”

Lucy was silent as the lacrima’s static noise filled the room.

Loke didn’t turn around, pretending to watch the globe for the lieutenant’s face. _Might have stepped over that line again, boy._ He hadn’t meant to lecture. And he didn’t know much about Lucy’s life before she’d come to Fairy Tail, so he didn’t exactly have the right…

Loke gripped the edge of the table till his knuckles went white. But he _was_ a little too familiar with feeling trapped. Empty and trapped in a life you hated. Earth magic had evolved a surprising variety of methods for coping with that.

Yeah. If Lucy hadn’t run away from home, he’d probably be a very dead Celestial Spirit.

“What the hell, spirit, do you have any idea what time it is —”

Loke grinned at the bedraggled lieutenant’s image in the lacrima. “Fairy Tail is always open for business, sir. We’ve run across something we’d like you to take a look at. Sooner rather than later, but I’m sure the Council will understand if you need a few more hours.”

Rorke pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ten minutes.” And the globe went dark.

Loke turned around, and his grin faded.

Lucy was watching Gladys, hugging one arm to her side. She looked like she hated herself.

“Lucy... “ He paused, then walked to her. “None of what I said… none of that was about you, okay?” He stopped a foot in front of her. He wanted to tilt her chin up, wanted her to look at him. “It’s gotta be hard to hear that petty shit all the time, you’re right. And.” Loke gave a short laugh. “You’re allowed to dislike people. Didn’t mean to say —”

“Shut up, will you?” But she flashed him a wry smile. “Way to make me feel thoroughly ashamed of myself.”

“What? _No_. No, that’s not what I meant —”

“I’m getting dressed.” Lucy turned on her heel. “I’d rather not add to the list of people who’ve seen me in my bathrobe today.”

Loke watched until her bedroom door shut, then he sank to the floor. “Dammit, Loke.” He rested his back against the couch.

He watched Gladys over his shoulder. She was young. Eighteen, maybe? Trendy hair, manicured hands, a robe and pajamas that couldn’t have been cheap. _Wonder if she’s studying at that Elite Girls Whatever place._ Like Layla did. Like Lucy would have. _Wonder who gave her her first taste?_

A crisp knock sounded at the door.

Loke got to his feet and ushered Lieutenant McComey into the suite with an exaggerated bow. “You dress quickly, sir. Pajamas would have been fine.”

Rorke tugged at his cravat. “Did you or did you not have official Council business to discuss?”

Loke gestured to Gladys, prone on the couch. “Willing to bet this is our first brush with your potion.”

Rorke observed the girl coolly. “I had no doubt it would make an appearance here.” He whipped off his gloves as he strode forward. “Such a gathering would be too enticing to resist for whoever’s distributing it.”

“And the Council has no leads yet as to who that might be?” Lucy stepped out of her room, dressed again more conservatively than usual in a floor-length sundress.

“Lady Heartfilia.” Rorke bowed. “We cannot even ascertain if it is a guild or a rogue wizard.” He knelt next to the couch and opened one of Gladys’ eyes gently. “She hasn’t been using long.” Rorke prised the other eye open with light fingers. “Can’t have had more than three doses.”

Loke frowned. “You can tell?”

Rorke studied the girl’s nails. “I’ve never seen anyone alive after ten.”

Lucy’s eyes went wide. “How is a recreational potion that lethal? How can anyone sell it?”

“Well, it’s not exactly common knowledge that users die quickly. It’s fairly new and very expensive.” Rorke checked Gladys’ pulse. “Even knowledge of its existence isn’t widespread. Outside of whoever’s distributing it, the Council is probably the most learned about the potion’s effects.”

“That makes no sense at all,” Loke muttered, chin in hand. “Develop an expensive potion, market it as recreational to the adventurous rich, yeah, sure, I get that. But why would you make it so deadly? I’d understand if they died after, like, a hundred.”

Lucy gaped at him.

“What I mean is,” Loke added hastily, “it’s not a great way to build a client base, is it? No return clients, and when people figure it out, no new ones either. Well.” He paused. “Not as many new ones anyway. There’s always someone willing to try anything.”

“You are heartless,” Lucy managed finally.

“But he’s not wrong,” Rorke pointed out. “It’s poor business sense, and if you’re targeting the elite of Fiore, that’s unexpected.”

So… so.” Lucy glanced at Gladys. “Do they… _want_ people to die?”

“As opposed to simply not caring if they do?” Rorke rubbed his chin. “It’s an intriguing thought. But in this case there would be more money made if people didn’t die quite so quickly. So what else is there?”

“Well.” Loke closed his eyes. “How does the potion end up killing people? Is there… I don’t know, something in the way they die that might be profitable?”

Lucy grimaced. “Urgh. How disgusting.”

Rorke stood. “We’ve only managed to keep two bodies for advanced autopsy. In these circles, reputation is everything, and a Magic Council investigation is rarely conducive to that. And these families…” He sighed. “They’re powerful enough to stop most things they don’t like.”

“Even orders from the Magic Council?” Lucy marveled.

“What about the autopsy results?” Loke prompted.

“We only just received permission. We called Fairy Tail in to help with the investigation as soon as we realized how quickly people were dying.” Rorke walked to the door. “And let me tell you, it took every ounce of the Council’s diplomacy to persuade even these two families to let us proceed.” He tugged open the door. “I’ll let you know as soon as we uncover anything. In the meantime, I need Fairy Tail to focus on finding the distributor. We've got to find out who’s making this damned stuff.” And he shut the door behind him.

Lucy stared at the door for several moments after the lieutenant had gone. Loke could only wonder what was churning through her mind. Worry for her old friends? Disgust at the above-the-law attitude of Fiore’s elite? Horror at a potion designed to kill?

“Loke.”

He could see her tightly gripped fists at her sides. “Lucy.”

“The mansion has fabulous training grounds. Some of the best you’ve ever seen. Shall we try them out?”

Loke allowed a slow grin to spread across his face. “I won’t go easy on you, princess.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “We have _talked_ about the princess thing.”

* * *

 

“Gate of the Bull, I open thee!” Lucy flicked a golden key in the air. “Taurus!”

A muscular, horned spirit, large as a bull, materialized with a roar. He swung a double-bladed ax eagerly. “Fighting Loke today, Miss Lucy? Was he looking at your nice body? I won’t hold back!” Taurus charged at his fellow Celestial Spirit.

“Regulus… Impact!” A golden lion head burst from Loke’s outstretched hand, blasting the bull spirit into a disintegrating magical cloud. “Ha! You should learn to keep your eyes on me, dumb cow, and off Lucy’s a _aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssss_ —!”

Lucy snickered as a hole opened in the earth beneath Loke’s feet.

“Sorry, Loke.” Virgo’s voice wafted up from the pit. “Shall I have Princess punish me?”

“Virgo!” Loke shouted. “Damn traitor, I’ll show you. Regulus… Blast!”

But Lucy held Virgo’s key to her lips and whispered, “Nice, Virgo. You can go, but stand by.”

The pit filled with a golden explosion. “What the hell…? Virgo…?” Loke’s voice sounded confused.

“Gate of the Archer,” Lucy called softly, twisting another key off her belt. “I open thee. Sagittarius!”

A tall, faintly equine spirit appeared at the edge of Virgo’s abyss. “Loke is my target, yes, hello, Miss Lucy!” He pulled back a longbow, aiming an arrow into the pit.

“The fuck, Lucy, will you slow down?” Loke bellowed. “Lion Brilliance!”

Lucy winced as a blast of nearly white light flared from the hole. Sagittarius stumbled backward, covering his eyes with a shout, and he flickered out of existence.

“Won’t slow down until you stop sending all my spirits back to the Spirit World!” Lucy yelled back. “I thought we were sparring, not trying to draw first blood!”

Loke threw himself over the edge of the pit onto solid ground. “Sorry that it’s taking me a minute to get back up to speed out here on my own!” he retorted. “You aren’t exactly giving me much time to choose delicate responses!”

Lucy stepped back cautiously, taking in Loke’s new appearance. The short hair and the absence of his leonine ears confirmed that he was on Earth under his own power for now. She’d wanted to try calling out other spirits and fighting with them while he was still using her celestial magic, but Loke had refused.

“You nearly passed out making Gemini go for a five-minute walk this morning,” he had said. “No way in hell am I fighting you while using _your_ magic.”

An idea crept into her brain, and she put her hands on her hips. She let her fingers curl discreetly around the handle of her whip. “Ohhh, you need a warm up? I see, my bad, my bad, sorry.”

Her Fleuve d’Etoilles lashed out, snaked up his ankle, and she yanked.

Loke fell neatly at her feet.

“Shall I just let you rest there until you’re ready?” she cooed. She leaned over him as he lay on his back, gasping.

“Well, well,” Loke coughed. “Who knew?”

A soft blast of light knocked Lucy off her feet, and she sat down hard on the training field. “What the —?”

Loke pinned her to the ground by her shoulders, straddling her in an instant. “Who knew the princess likes to use a whip to coerce her servants?” He grinned. “Virgo will be so jealous when I tell her.”

“I… I do _not_ , you overconfident lion bastard!” Lucy shouted. She could feel her face turning red. “And don’t you dare tell her, I’ll never hear the end of it!” She reached up to shove him off of her.

Loke lowered himself to his elbows, and Lucy’s hands slipped over his shoulders. “You don’t want to tell any of your other spirits how you treat me?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

 _The fuck._ His voice was really something. Not for nothing had he been the heartthrob of Fairy Tail when he was masquerading as a human all those years ago. “I don’t…” She swallowed. “I don’t treat you… any differently than any of the others. You know that.”

“Yes, why is that, do you think?” Loke rested his head against her arm that was propped on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind if you tried to make one or two of them jealous. Or…” He bent his head a little. “They wouldn’t have to know anything.”

 _What the... ? Is he… actually… ?_ Lucy squeezed her eyes shut. _No. No, this is Loke, he never means it, he’s just… he’s one of your spirits._ She let her arms fall from his shoulders and pushed lightly on his chest. “Okay, time to stop teasing. There are a couple dozen other girls here that I’m sure would be more than willing to… do anything you like.”

Loke looked surprised. “Lucy…” But he sat back on his heels. “I’m sorry. I forget myself.” He stood, offering her a hand. “Let’s do twenty more minutes, then we’ll head back.”

Lucy licked her lips. They seemed dry all of a sudden. “Ah. Right. I did promise Emilia I’d be at that cocktail party later tonight.”

Loke walked a few paces away from her. “And I’ll use my own magic for the rest of the night,” he said, his back to her. “You’re exhausting yourself.”

“Oh, you don’t have to —”

“Lucy.” Loke cut her off. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Let me do this for you, my lady.”

Lucy was glad for the extended workout. It was something to blame her bright red face on at any rate.


	6. Chapter 6

“Well?!”

Virgo paused in the midst of changing her white apron. Her signature maid’s uniform wasn’t really built for industrial tunneling. “You have an inquiry to make, Aquarius?”

The large, fish-tailed spirit glared at Virgo. “How _is_ she, of course?!”

“You are referring to Hime-sama, I assume?” Virgo tied a neat bow in her fresh apron.

“I’m not referring to Loke, ya damn gopher,” Aquarius snarled. “Lucy. Gemini said she was sweating when she called them. _Sweating_.” She gestured to Virgo. “And then she goes and calls you _and_ Taurus _and_ Sagittarius. In the space of, like, thirty seconds.”

“It was a most energizing pace,” Virgo agreed. She wasn’t altogether certain where the conversation was supposed to go but wanted to show willing.

“And she kept it up?” Aquarius persisted. “For how long?”

“It is difficult to say,” Virgo hedged. And it was. She didn’t bother trying to reconcile the time disparities between Earth and the Spirit World. What an unnecessary headache. “I was called twice more. Sagittarius had to heal a bit, I think, so Hime-sama of course did not summon him again. Aries came out. And Scorpio for a moment.”

Aquarius blinked. “Holy shit. Is that idiot trying to kill herself?”

“I believe Hime-sama is quite formidable these days.” Virgo tried to be reassuring but wasn’t exactly sure how other people managed it.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Aquarius growled. “What the hell is Loke thinking, fighting her while she’s half-drained keeping his ass on Earth?”

“Sorry! Loke went back to his human form while they were training!”

Aquarius and Virgo turned as one to face Aries, who was twisting her skirt nervously. “I’m sure he did it to keep her from hurting herself! I’m sorry!” she bleated.

Aquarius grunted, obviously not satisfied. “Why isn’t he doing that all the time anyway? Keeping a spirit out for days on end under her own power… how long is this supposed to go on, anyway?”

Virgo shrugged, but Aries said, “Lucy told me it was for a month?”

“ _A month?!_ ”

“I’m sorry!”

Aquarius looked murderous, Aries was on the verge of nervous collapse, and Virgo felt it was perhaps time to intervene somehow. “But Hime-sama really did look quite well, Aquarius,” the maid spirit offered. “In fact, I believe she bested Loke in their friendly match.”

“Eh?” Aquarius put her hands on her hips. “Lucy ain’t that strong yet. How did you figure that?”

“Well, her Fleuve d’Etoilles had caught him around the neck,” Virgo recalled, admirably ignoring a twinge of jealousy, “and she brought him handily to his knees at her feet. Hime-sama commented how it was probably going to leave a mark, but Loke said that he did not mind, which I thought was very polite of him.”

Aries had turned a brilliant shade of pink. Virgo could just make out the color behind the ram spirit’s hands as they covered her face. Aquarius couldn’t have gone any more still if she had been frozen with Ice Maker Magic.

“He said… what now?”

It was unusual for the water spirit’s voice to be so quiet. Virgo wondered if Aquarius simply hadn’t heard her well. “Loke said that he did not mind if the whip left a mark,” she repeated. “He was breathing quite heavily. It was Hime-sama who suggested that they were done training at that point. I believe she exhausted him completely.”

“Breathing. Heavily,” Aquarius intoned.

Aries let loose a squeal and clapped her hands over her mouth.

“I hope you are reassured that your worries are groundless,” Virgo said. “Hime-sama —”

“Worried? Oh, I ain’t _worried_ , lil gopher.” Aquarius crossed her arms over her impressive chest. “You know who’d best be worried? Some horny feline who’s gonna get a knot tied in his tail if I ever see him again.” She grinned nastily. “And he’s gonna thank me that I don’t tie up his gonads instead.”

* * *

 

Loke tilted his head to the side. It had been so long since he’d been on Earth on his own power that he’d nearly forgotten the subtle differences. He rather liked his human form’s close-cropped hair. Call it vanity, but he’d always thought his lion ears needed the camouflage of a fuller hairstyle.

He let the bathroom’s light fall on his neck. “Hm.” He rubbed the pink welts gingerly. Lucy’s whip had indeed left some nasty marks. Three of them, to be precise.

He tilted his jaw. If you had the imagination… you could almost mistake them for nail marks.

Loke grinned in the mirror. No one had more active imaginations than Fiore’s moneyed elite.

He exhaled slowly. The whip had been tight around his throat, and he hadn’t been expecting her to snap it so quickly. It had brought him to his knees faster than he could react.

And then he’d just… stared at her. Gazed up at his master from his knees in the dirt, breathing like he’d run five miles at a sprint. It had been intoxicating, that split second before she’d turned flustered and apologetic. Triumph had sparkled in her eyes, and he’d been powerless to move.

A knock sounded at the bathroom door, making him grab the sink in surprise.

“Loke, if we’re going to talk to people before they’re too drunk to understand, we should really get going.”

“Ah, right!” Loke cleared his throat. “Right.”

He opened the door and came nose to nose with Lucy.

Her jaw dropped, and she spun around immediately. “You idiot!” she huffed. “You could have finished changing first!”

Loke glanced down. _Ah._ The Magic Council had stocked their mansion with large, plush towels, but he was still very much wearing _only_ a towel.

“Oh, I didn’t bring my clothes with me.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Never liked changing in the bath. Too cramped.”

Her shoulders were tense. And bare. Her hair was up, and _damn_ he loved her slim neck. Loke let his gaze travel the length of her. Like everything else she’d worn at this place, this dress was new to him. Black and strapless, with a flared skirt that stopped mid-thigh. He leaned back to get a better view. _Mm._ A black petticoat kept the skirt full and added a discreetly sexy touch of lace.

“Really, princess?” Loke leaned against the door jam. “You see Gray in his skivvies on a regular basis, and you’re getting all puritanical on me now?”

“The only one at Fairy Tail who isn’t immune to Gray’s nudity is Juvia,” Lucy said shortly. She squared her shoulders and faced him. Loke noticed with amusement that her cheeks were an adorable shade of pink. “And wanting you to have clothes on in the apartment is hardly puritanical. Oh!”

Loke straightened at her look of alarm. And froze when her hand touched his neck.

“Oh, _my_ , just look what I did to you.” Lucy tutted. “That looks awful.”

“It’s not that bad.” He swallowed as she brushed her thumb over the tiny welts. “I don’t mind, you know.”

Her eyes shot up to his. It took him a moment to remember to flash his customary flirty grin. _Just normal Loke, normally teasing like normal._

Lucy smacked his arm. “Get dressed.” She turned on a crisp black heel. “I’ll be reading in the foyer when you’re ready.”

He watched how her skirt bounced and swayed with every step as she left. “Fucking get dressed, Loke,” he muttered.

* * *

 

They met Rorke just outside the cocktail party. It was a balmy evening, perfect for mingling on the mansion’s veranda with tiny glasses of strong liquor in hand. So perfect, in fact, that Loke wondered if the Council hadn’t manipulated the weather in some way. _No expense too great for Fiore’s finest._

“First gathering after pretty much all the guests should have arrived,” Rorke said quietly as they joined the glittering crowd.

“It’s still a bit early in the month,” Lucy countered, taking stock of their fellow party-goers. “A few of the VIPs will wait for later gatherings to make their appearance. Even if they are here already.”

“Looks like no one over forty’s up for a late night tonight,” Loke observed. In fact, most of the other guests barely looked twenty.

Rorke nodded at a passing server, who instantly proffered her tray. “This is the first party of the summer for most of Fiore’s universities.” He handed Lucy a drink and gestured for Loke to select his own. “I’m sure there are many fascinating conversations to be had this evening. After an hour or two,” he added, winking at the server. She responded with a smirk and eyed the lieutenant up and down.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Oh, not you too,” she muttered.

Loke pretended not to hear.

“Why, Lieutenant.” A curvaceous blonde sashayed past Loke to place a possessive hand on Rorke’s chest. “You did _not_ just flirt with that waitress.”

Loke tried not to stare at the young woman’s purple sequined minidress, but old habits do die hard.

“Lady Fontenelle.” Rorke tucked the blonde’s hand smoothly into his arm, and Loke saw a flash of the man he’d first met at Fairy Tail all those months ago. “Haven’t you heard? The Council is no respecter of persons.”

Miss Fontenelle giggled, a perfect blend of amusement and seduction. And just perhaps, Loke mused, a hint of booze. “I’m sure there’s a great deal I haven’t heard about.. the Council.”

“You heard the lady.” Rorke turned to Loke and Lucy. “I’m off to have a very serious conversation with the next duchess of Crocus. Don’t be wallflowers.” He gave them a meaningful look before he swept the giggling heiress off to who the hell knew where.

 _That absolute bastard._ Loke frowned as he watched the lieutenant’s arm curl around that tight, sparkly dress. _He goes off to play, and we have to work?_ He glanced down at Lucy at his side. She had rolled her eyes at Rorke’s performance and quickly lost interest. She sipped at her cocktail, scanning the crowd.

_Well, if his rat’s ass can sneak off to a corner, maybe we can —_

“You’ve cut your hair since yesterday.”

Loke jerked at the amused voice that sounded just behind his shoulder.

Emilia grinned at him. “Loke, wasn’t it?” she asked. Her voice was far too friendly for a woman who had practically flipped him off the last time they’d met.

“Emilia!” Lucy greeted her friend happily. “I’ve been looking for you!”

“Not too long, I hope.” Emilia slipped her arm through Loke’s. “I just got here. I have this shameless habit of being late everywhere if Mum and Daddy don’t drag me around.”

Loke raised his eyebrows and tried to catch Lucy’s eye. 

Confusion flickered across Lucy’s face, but she laughed. “I remember that about you. So Lord and Lady Darnworthy won’t make it tonight?”

Emilia waved a bored hand. “Daddy insisted he was too tired from golfing today, and Mum was all, ‘It’s a cheap evening for people who don’t see the importance of making _connections_.’” She smiled up at Loke. “So naturally, I’m here!”

Years of practice hid his wariness. “I think your mother and I have slightly different opinions of the definition of cheap.” He favored her with a disarming smile.

“Mum has a definition of cheap that is all her very own,” Emilia agreed. “Lucy, dearheart, do you mind if Loke and I abandon you for two minutes?”

Lucy blinked, then gave a bemused laugh. “That’s a bit of a switch, isn’t it? You used to do everything you could to get the boys out of the way. I’m a little hurt.”

Emilia blushed, but Loke had been watching for hints of last night’s coy little act. _Huh. Never met anyone before who could turn pink on command like that._ “Oh, come on, Lucy, you know it’s not like that.” She tipped her chin at something behind Lucy’s back. “I promised Sonya that I’d get her five minutes alone with you,” she mumbled.

Lucy glanced over her shoulder. Loke followed her gaze to a tall, svelte redhead in a blue strapless pants suit. The woman had indeed been watching them subtly and had the good grace to lift her glass when she was caught. Loke still caught a whiff of nervousness about her stance though.

 _What the fuck._ He appraised Lucy as she laughed and welcomed the redhead over with a wave. _Lucy Heartfilia, the favorite of Fiore’s moneyed ladies. The fuck._

“Let’s go show off that new haircut to the rest of the party.” Emilia tugged on Loke’s arm. “We will not be wanted in the next very few minutes.”

“I— Lucy— ?” Call it safety concerns, call it dedication to the job, _fine_ , call it goddamn jealousy. Loke wasn’t stoked about the idea of leaving Lucy’s side. He generally didn’t like the idea of cockblocking people, but he had a duty to protect his master, and who knew who that delicious-looking redhead strolling toward them really was anyway? _She could be the master of a dark guild for all I know. She could have the potion on her right now! In her… bra or something. If she’s wearing a bra. Which—_

“Oh, go on, Loke.” Lucy pushed at his arm. “Sonya and I go way back. I’ll catch up with you guys in a couple minutes.”

Loke blinked. “You do?”

“Let’s go, cowboy.” Emilia led him toward a table of sweets across the veranda. “I’ll explain on the way.”

He mutely accepted the delicate plate she handed him. “You look a little lost,” Emilia commented conversationally, snapping a pair of small silver tongs. She perused the variety of cakes and tarts with the eye of a connoisseur. “Didn’t realize you had quite so much competition, did you?”

That shook him awake. “I’ll let you know when I start competing.” It was a snippy, childish thing to say, and he barely stopped his own wince.

Emilia gave him a look. “Oh, you have got it bad, haven’t you? Still.” She glanced at Lucy and Sonya on the other side of the marbled patio. “We can’t blame you.”

“Who’s we?” Loke asked bluntly.

“Only every high-society girl who grew up within two grades of Lucy Heartfilia.” Emilia chewed a rose-shaped caramel thoughtfully.

“That includes you?”

Emilia smirked. “I did say ‘every.’”

Loke swallowed. “And Sonya?”

“Poor Sonya.” Emilia licked her fingers. “This is a big night for her. She’s never actually had the nerve to speak to Lucy before.”

Loke’s jaw dropped slightly. “What? But Lucy said they went way back!”

“Oh, you know how Lucy is. Super friendly and into everyone. She always treated Sonya like a real person, even when everyone else was making fun of her for being so quiet. Who wouldn’t fall in love with that?”

“Are you in love with her?”

Emilia froze.

Loke pursed his lips. _Wasn’t planning on that one._ But he waited.

“Try one of these.” Emilia shoved a caramel in his face. “They’re enchanting. And also? That’s none of your business.”

Loke smirked and took the candy. “So why are you letting Sonya the Red have her moment in the candlelight?”

“I’m jealous.” Emilia flashed him a humorless smile. “I’m not cruel.”

“I commend your sense of morality.” Loke popped the caramel into his mouth. “I’m a selfish bastard, personally.”

“And Lucy can do whatever she wants,” Emilia continued. “When she ran away from all this, I thought, well, here’s to being that one girl she knew that one time.”

“Huh. When I decided I wanted her, I pretty much shackled myself to her for the rest of her life. Wait, what do you mean, _that one time_?”

Emilia raised an eyebrow. “Okay, that’s really clingy.”

“No, no, wait, you said _that one time_. Like you meant there was… _one time_.”

“All I’m saying is that if Lucy ever decides she wants one person, I’m not going to stand there and insist it be me.”

“I feel like you don’t want to tell me something.”

“I feel like you don’t take hints worth shit.”

They glared at each other for half a moment. Emilia rolled her eyes and selected a chocolate. “Ugh. Stop being boorish and get me away from this table.”

Loke scowled at her, then flagged down a passing server. “Well, if we’re going to be rivals, we should at least drink on it.”

“Mother would approve.” Emilia accepted a brimming glass.

“I’m not altogether sure that means you agree, but I’m drinking anyway.”

Emilia looped her arm through his and led him down the veranda’s wide stairs onto a manicured lawn. “Let’s not bring family into this.”

“You were the one who brought your mom up!” Loke protested. Lanterns lit the yard only barely, and Emilia settled them on a pair of wicker chairs a little ways from the party noise.

“I can joke about Mum. You can’t. Ground rules.”

Loke took another sip and was mildly surprised that he spilled a bit on his navy slacks. “Mom jokes are foundational to rivalries.”

“Speaking of moms, did you ever meet Layla?”

Loke looked down into his drink, weirdly embarrassed. “No,” he mumbled. _Got a crush on a girl, don’t know anything about her family. You never ask. You never_ think _to ask. You’re kind of just shit, aren’t you?_

Emilia leaned her head back with a sigh. “Lady Layla Heartfilia. Sort of trips over the tongue, right? She was fabulous. Without a doubt, my first crush.”

Loke’s mouth dropped open. He swiped absentmindedly at a bit of saliva at the corner of his lips. “You had a crush on your crush’s mom?” He snickered. Anything to make him feel better. Anything to take his mind off the pile of dirt he was.

“Well, I didn’t know it at the time,” Emilia retorted. “I didn’t even know what it meant to like someone like that, of course. And besides, anyone with two eyes — “

Loke clutched at his head. He wanted it off his shoulders. His head hurt, and he was a horrible person, and Lucy didn’t need him, she’d never needed him. _Maybe I could take Aquarius’ place. Stay in the Spirit World forever._ He yanked at his hair. _She and Lucy could be together. Bet she’s in love with Lucy too. I’m shit._

“Loke?”

He barely registered two hands patting his cheeks softly. “Mm? ‘Mmmmilia?”

“Wow. Loke… can you hear me?”

Could a voice be covered in fuzz? All gray and fuzzy. He felt his feet leave the ground slowly, his head lowered to a pillow. The motion made him gag. He tried to turn over so he wouldn’t be sick in his own mouth.

“Oh, ew, no.” Hands on his shoulders held him to the bench. “You’re gonna stay there for now. Shit, I was not dressed for this. Just… god, fucking stay.”

Soft footsteps ran away, and Loke lay on his back while the world dipped and swooshed, even with his eyes closed. _Horrible. Horrible person. I… Lucy._ His chest ached, and he imagined his heart filling with tears of self-hate. It would explode inside him, and Lucy would find him, a disgusting mess, and she’d be glad he was gone.

Or she’d never find him. _God, it… hurtsssss._ Loke managed to drag a hand over his heart and gripped his shirt. She’d never find him because he would disintegrate entirely.

And she’d never care.


	7. Chapter 7

A dull ache bloomed in Lucy’s hip, and she lost the last half of Sonya’s sentence. She touched her wallet of keys, hidden in the pocket of her full skirt.

She hummed to try to cover her faltering attention. Let her fingers dance over each key at a time. Subtle, steady magic thrummed from each one, until —

_Loke._

“Lucy?” Sonya touched her arm lightly. “Something wrong, dear?”

Lucy glanced up at the tall redhead. She was too close. Had been getting closer for the past ten minutes. “Oh, sorry, sorry, distracted!” Lucy took the opportunity to back away. “My partner just called me.” She patted her skirt pocket and laughed. “Probably drunk somewhere. Sorry, Sonya, have to go, was lovely catching up, we should talk again while we’re here!” And she bolted.

 _Loke, what the fuck happened to you?_ His key, which had been emitting steady magical energy like all the others, had gone dark. And then began pulsing erratically. She was used to subtle changes in the magic emanating from the keys of all her spirits, but she’d never felt anything like this before.

Lucy didn’t exactly run over to the dessert table where she’d lost sight of Loke and Emilia a few minutes earlier. Loke had finally looked comfortable with her old friend — _finally_ — and Lucy had allowed her attention to be pulled in to Sonya’s shy attempts at flirting. As stunning as her old school chum had grown, the woman was still charmingly awkward…

Lucy shook her head and glanced around the veranda. _Did they leave?_ Loke was usually easy to pick out of a crowd. Disturbingly so. That tall, trim body in a crisp suit. And his _kind of amazing really_ thick red hair. The glasses did a perfect job of reining in his animal appeal to something more dangerously subtle —

 _Oh my god, will you shut up. His key has gone batshit, and you’re thinking about his fucking glasses?_ Lucy stood with her back to the veranda railing, crossed her arms. She glared out at the party. Her hip was aching now, but she resisted the urge to pull the key away from her body. Loke was hurting, and she had no idea where he was. No idea where her partner was. _Some Fairy Tail wizard you are._ She clenched her jaw. _Where the fuck is he?_

“You’re scaring people, Lady Heartfilia.”

Lucy was proud she didn’t react beyond a simple lifting of her eyes. Rorke was walking up the veranda steps from the lawn. “You really should smile,” the lieutenant pointed out. His own smirk had a tinge of the self-assured looseness she recalled from that day he’d first wandered into Fairy Tail.

She narrowed her eyes and let her breeding soak into her bones. “I am in no mood either to smile or to kindly accept advice that I should.” Lucy stood away from the railing and turned to walk down the stairs. “If you’ll excuse me, Lieutenant.”

“I won’t, actually.” Rorke blocked her retreat smoothly. “We’ve both been chatting with beautiful women all night long.” He leaned over her, and Lucy could smell the liquor on his breath. “I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours. That tall redhead is into the ladies, is she?”

She hoped her flat stare echoed all her revulsion. “I do have information for you. If you’re capable of grasping it.” Lucy lifted her chin. “Loke’s missing. Possibly injured. I have no interest in chatting further with you until after I’ve assured myself of his safety. And you will remove yourself from my path.”

Rorke raised his eyebrows. “I’d rather stand here, thanks. The view is fantastic.” He didn’t drop his gaze to her strapless gown. He didn’t need to.

“You’re drunk, Lieutenant. And you grow more distasteful with it.” Lucy moved to walk around him.

He grabbed her upper arm. “You’ve made no secret that you find me distasteful.” Rorke held her firmly. “I thought your type was bred to hide what they were thinking.”

Lucy swallowed hard. “Incredible. I hadn’t thought of you as dimwitted before, but you’re making me revise even that one positive impression of your character.” She forced herself to meet his quietly furious gaze. “I could have your arm shot off right this instant and not give myself a scratch.”

“You think you’re some goddamn lady?” Rorke hissed. “You’re a fake. A fake the Magic Council hired to do our work. And here? Right now?” He put his lips next to her ear. “I’m the Magic Council. So I hired you. You’re mine.”

A golden key was in his face in an instant. “This is Capricorn,” Lucy whispered. “Would you like to meet him?”

Rorke’s grip tightened around her bicep. “Threats, Lady Heartfilia? I’ve got a few of my own.”

“Shall we duel then? In front of everyone? How quickly, do you think, would we both be removed from this investigation if we fought like, like Fairy Tail wizards in front of the Council’s most important friends?” Lucy touched the key to his cheek, just under his eye. “Now I’d be fine. Makarov might even be pleased.” She stroked the key over his cheekbone. “You know how he is. But you. You’d be demoted. At the very least. Possibly tossed out of the Council altogether, because oh they still don’t like Fairy Tail very much now, do they?”

A muscle twitched in Rorke’s jaw. His fingers loosened slightly.

“I’m not saying this to dissuade you,” she continued. “Please make me call someone. Capricorn’s so elegant. He’d fit in really well here, I think.”

“Really hate to break up the cozy atmosphere —”

Lucy and Rorke turned as one to face Emilia. The short brunette walked up the veranda steps to stand close. She glanced at the lieutenant’s grip on Lucy’s arm. “When was the last time they let you out amongst polite company, Lieutenant?” Emilia asked breezily.

Rorke dropped his hand from Lucy’s arm, all but snarling.

“Your man is currently throwing his lungs up behind some landscaping.” Emilia waved a hand vaguely at the dimly lit lawn. “I couldn’t get him to his feet myself. Plus he seemed really intent on vomiting on my shoes, and they’re Louboutins, so…” She shrugged.

Eyes wide, Lucy practically ran down the shallow marble steps. _Loke. Stars, please. Loke. God, please, I don’t know what I’d —_

A retching sound caught her ears, and she dashed around a perfectly sculpted hedge. “Loke… oh, heavens, Loke…”

He was barely on his knees in front of a wicker chaise lounge. His shoulders heaved under his dress shirt, and Lucy could see a puddle of sick in front of him.

She was on her knees in a moment, lifting his face with her hands. “Loke, baby, look at me.” _Can’t even get his eyes open._ His skin was pale in the lamplight, and his chin was dripping. “Oh god, I’ve never… I’ve never seen you like this…” She had to move him. Had to get him to help, fast. _Taurus could carry him._ Lucy dug for her keys.

“He’s been poisoned.”

Lucy’s head snapped up. Rorke stood over them, his arms crossed, his expression quietly pissed off.

“If you bothered to follow me, you’d better have less obvious information.” She clutched Loke’s shoulders to keep him from sinking into his own vomit. “How? With what?”

Rorke squatted in front of Loke. Grabbing the spirit’s hair, Rorke pulled his head up to peer at him. Loke whimpered softly, and Lucy clenched her jaw. “Where’s Emilia?” she demanded. _Because if she’s nowhere close, I’m going to call three spirits, right here, right now, just to fucking hold me back._

Rorke let go of Loke’s hair, and the spirit’s head fell between his shoulders. Loke retched again, but nothing came up. Lucy snarled. “You have half a second to explain yourself, Lieutenant, before I —”

“She’s gone to the medical office. You may have noticed your man is ill?” Rorke asked snidely. “Possibly even deathly so.”

Lucy’s hand flew to her waist, to grab a key, to grab her whip, anything.

“You know what he looks like?” Rorke tipped Loke’s head up again with a finger under his chin. “He looks like this one user I saw right before she died. I don’t really understand why this fucker isn’t dead, to be honest.”

“You touch him again, I swear, I will take your hand off at the wrist,” Lucy hissed.

Rorke held up both hands in feigned shock. “Tsk, tsk, such vulgarity from a lady of the realm.”

“If you wanted a lady, you shouldn’t have hired Fairy Tail.” Lucy shifted Loke’s weight so he leaned against her. “Explain. You think someone gave him the potion?”

“Maybe someone offered it to him, and he was feeling adventurous.” 

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “Any better ideas?”

“One, yeah.” Rorke sat back on the grass and propped an arm up on one knee. “Someone wants to send a message to the Magic Council about our investigation. Wants to let us know they’d like to us to go away quietly, if you please.”

“So why didn’t they poison you?” Lucy bit out.

“Don’t sound so wistful, Lady Heartfilia. If you wanted to send a deadly message with maximum effect and minimum revenge, would you take out a Magic Council officer? Or a spirit owned by a trashy wizard from a famously low-class guild?” Rorke waved a hand. “Message received. No wounded pride for the Magic Council to crusade upon. Poof! Theoretically, their troubles vanish.”

Lucy grinned. She wondered if this was how Mirajane felt right before she invoked Satan Soul. “Fairy Tail doesn’t do ‘poof.’”

Rorke rolled his eyes. “You can hardly compare the way your guild runs around chasing its tail to —”

“They’re over here, Doctor!”

A flurry of personnel in white arguably did the Council the favor of heading off a scene between one of their own and a trashy wizard.

“Sorry that took so long.” Emilia knelt by Lucy’s side, a bit breathless. “Had to fight to get anyone’s attention. It’s that point in the evening where some of the younger guests are finding out how much they can’t handle after all.” She watched as a couple of the Council’s medical staff shifted Loke carefully onto a stretcher. “But when I explained he was a friend of the Council’s…”

Lucy reached for her hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. “Thanks, Emilia. We owe you big time.”

Emilia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ah. Well. I guess I don’t mind if _you_ owe me.”

Lucy felt her friend’s hand twitch under her own. _Oh, no. No._ Flirting was one thing, but some doors to the past were better left firmly closed. “I, uh...” She slipped her hand from Emilia’s casually. “I… I’d better catch up… take them to our suite.” She stood, made a show of brushing off her dress. “If… if you’d like to come with—?”

“No, no!” Emilia didn’t look at her. She gave a laugh that was a bit too breezy and waved her away. “Of course you have to go. I’ll catch up with you later. Hurry, or they’ll end up in the wrong wing!”

Lucy chewed her lip but decided to take the out. With one last glare at Rorke, who had watched their exchange a bit too closely, she chased after the stretcher.

* * *

 

“Magic deficiency disease?” Lucy repeated in disbelief. She glanced down at Loke. He was safely ensconced in his bed back in their suite, looking pale still but breathing more easily. She looked back at the Council doctor. “But he’s a Celestial Spirit. He _is_ magic. They can’t get —”

“Believe me, Lady Heartfilia, this is the first I’ve ever seen of it.” The doctor adjusted her glasses. Lucy couldn’t tell if the woman was frustrated or excited at the abnormality. “But it is my professional opinion that whatever he ingested would have almost certainly killed any human who uses magic. If the substance’s effect on an immortal magical creature is an affliction they shouldn’t even be able to contract, you can imagine what would have happened to you or me.”

Lucy studied Loke’s still form. She’d never seen him looking less than positively vibrating with life. “What would have happened to a human who doesn’t use magic at all?” she asked quietly.

“Mm? Oh. Well, I’m afraid that’s not my area of expertise, but… possibly a nasty headache?”

“A… headache.”

“Well, magic deficiency disease can only harm those who use magic, yes?” The doctor sounded a trifle impatient. “So if you don’t use magic, the logic follows that —”

“So this… poison or whatever… it targets a person’s magic? Specifically?” Lucy questioned.

“That _is_ what I’ve been trying to say,” the doctor said reproachfully. She hummed over her charts. “In fact, it seems to be trying to… dislodge his magic from his constitution. Which, of course, for a magical creature, isn’t a possibility. At least, not in the way it’s a possibility for, say, a human wizard.”

An awful thought crept into Lucy’s brain. “Is this… something he’s going to be dealing with… forever?”

“What? Oh no, not at all. I have treated Celestial Spirits before.” The doctor sniffed proudly. “One of the few physicians in Fiore with any experience, I might add. He’s very nearly overpowered the poison as it is. He’d probably recover faster if you sent him back to the Spirit World though.”

“Right. Of course. That’s fabulous, thanks.” Lucy closed her eyes against the flood of relief. “I’ll talk to him about it when he wakes up.”

“I’d suggest doing a forced gate closure. If you can,” the doctor added. “I know not every celestial spirit mage is capable, of course. Still, you’ve had him on Earth for more than forty-eight hours, I understand? The best can only last seven days. But you would know that.” She raised her eyebrows at her notes meaningfully.

“The best, huh?”

“Loke!” Lucy leaned over him quickly. His voice was rough, and his eyes were barely open. _But he’s awake. And alert and alive and…_ She felt her throat constrict, and she forced her lips into a closed smile.

“Princess, you try sending me back, see how far it gets you,” Loke grumbled. “Always been good at stopping gate closures.”

“Now I know that spirits can get a little too attached to their wizards,” the doctor lectured, “but I strongly suggest that you recuperate in —”

“Not going back.” Loke’s voice cracked from overuse. Lucy grimaced. _Bet his throat’s raw._ “So you can… just put that idea away, princess.”

Lucy sat on a stool next to his bed. She hid a smile as the physician left the room grousing about “professional advice.” “She’s right, of course. You know you’d recover in no time in the Spirit World.”

“‘S not ‘no time’ here.” He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “Not leavin’ you alone for three months.”

“It probably wouldn’t even be that long —”

“But probably more than a month. And you’re not finishing this job without me.”

Her heart jumped a little. “What, you think I can’t?” she challenged, mostly to distract herself.

“Know you can.” Loke’s lips twitched. “Don’t want you to. Plus, gotta pay back some sumbitch for layin’ me out like this.”

Lucy frowned. “You heard what the doctor said, right? Magic deficiency disease?”

“Yeah.” Loke was quiet for a moment, and Lucy watched his chest rise and fall with deep breaths. “If it’d been you… you’d probably be dead.”

Lucy bit her lip. “This can’t be the potion we’re looking for. No one would go back for more if this is what the first time was like.” She tapped her foot. “As a patient, you can request your medical charts, right?”

Loke opened one eye just barely. “Uh…?”

“We could probably get the Magic Council to insist they release them to us if not,” she continued. “And I’m sure the Council has some kind of analysis filed on a potion sample. We could compare the two.”

“Rorke told us this morning they only just asked for the autopsies of the potion victims,” Loke reminded her.

“But the Council should have at least tested a sample by now.” Lucy crossed her arms. “At least enough to deconstruct the top layer of spells. And then I could send them out to Levy for comparison —”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Loke waved a hand tiredly. “If I agree to sweet talk the doctor into givin’ me my charts, will you let me sleep?”

Lucy flushed. “Oh! Oh, right. Sure. Sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll send her back in, shall I? Or, no, you can ask for her when you wake up. Ha, I’ll just —”

“Luce.”

She stopped babbling, noticed his eyes were closed again. _God, he looks beat._ “Yeah?”

“Need a good night kiss.”

“... You need a… what kind of meds do they have you on?” Lucy joked weakly.

Loke tapped his cheek clumsily. “Jus’ right here.”

“... You do not.”

“Too. My magic’s all wrecked to shit, and my master can’t even kiss me good night.” Loke frowned. “‘S gratitude for ya.”

Lucy gripped the sides of the stool. “Good night kisses are hardly standard contract material for celestial spirits. Did you slip some fine print into yours?”

“Comes under the heading of Christmas Bonus and/or Risk of Life and Limb,” Loke slurred.

Lucy grinned. “Not so smooth when you’re on pain meds up to your eyeballs, are you?” _Ah, what the hell._ She held her hair back as she leaned forward. _He won’t even remember —_

Loke turned his head, and she stopped inches from his lips. They stared at each other with equally wide eyes.

Lucy pressed her lips together and took his chin in hand before she lost her nerve. Tilted his face to one side and brushed the faintest, quickest peck against his ridiculously high cheekbone. “On the cheek, you said.” She tried to sound scolding as she straightened.

Loke’s eyes were huge, and he swallowed faintly. “Well.” He licked his lips and _there is that fucking illegal grin_. “You can change the rules whenever you want.”

Heat flooded her face, and Lucy stood abruptly. “Rule number one: You’re getting some sleep. Alone. In here. And… and I’m going to tell Rorke we need that potion analysis. Don’t you forget about your medical charts when you wake up!” she called over her shoulder, marching out of their suite.

_Fuck that fucking… LION._


	8. Chapter 8

They took their next few training sessions slow. Much to Loke’s distaste.

“I am not going to break,” he huffed when Lucy dismissed Cancer back to the Spirit World.

“You are practically on your hands and knees,” Lucy pointed out. “And your magic is all over the place.” She glanced pointedly at a disintegrating pine tree.

“I’m getting better.” Loke sniffed. But he stayed bent over, his hands braced on his knees, chest heaving.

Lucy frowned. She coiled her whip back on her belt and walked toward him. Loke’s mind blanked out when she placed her hand on his forehead. It traitorously stuttered back to life as he realized how close she was.

“ _You_ are hotter than an oven,” she scolded. “I told you it was too soon for a full workout.” She swept aside his bangs, long again now that he was back in his spirit form. Lucy had threatened to force his gate closed unless he used her magic to stay on Earth. It hadn’t taken a lot of convincing, if he were honest.

“Why, princess.” He offered her a lopsided grin. “I thought you’d never notice.”

The flirting was really just to distract her from the fact that he was hurting a little. He hadn’t meant for her to… look at him like _that_.

“I notice,” she said, her voice low, “a hell of a lot more than you give me credit for, lion.” Lucy tugged at his hair lightly. “We’re done here today.”

A sound fell out of Loke’s mouth. The tiniest gasp, the faintest _ahh_.

Lucy paused as she straightened. Her hand fell from his hair. Loke watched as color spread over her cheeks, and her eyes… her eyes went wide. Fell to his parted lips. And then glanced up quickly. He wondered what she saw reflected back in his own eyes. He wondered… how much longer he could pretend he was just messing with her. Pretend that she wasn’t completely fucking with his entire being.

She licked her lips, and she couldn’t have missed that he followed the movement. “Yeah. Today. We’re done for today.”

Loke watched her walk away, watched her hug herself and shake her head slightly.

He squatted on the training field, head in hands, and groaned.

* * *

 

“Did you get your medical charts from the Council doctor yet?”

“Mm.” Loke swallowed his bite of toast quickly. “Yeah, the file’s in my room. Lemme grab it.”

Lucy looked up from the To Do list she was jotting down at their breakfast table. “Bring me some coffee on your way back?”

He was already out of his chair, wiping his hands on a napkin. He glanced over his shoulder.

Her blonde hair was in a lopsided bun. Reading glasses were pushed down her nose, and her brown eyes still showed traces of last night’s makeup. The Council’s parties were endless, and they tried not to miss one.

Loke turned back and leaned over the table. “Need help washing your face at night, princess?” He swiped a thumb under her eye, wiping away a smudge of mascara.

Lucy colored, but she snapped her teeth at his thumb. “The file. And coffee.”

He pulled his hand away with a laugh.

Her head was bent back over her notepad when he returned with the file and the coffeepot. “Mm,” she hummed appreciatively as Loke topped up her mug. “I’ll get a messenger to take this to Levy right away.”

Loke furrowed his brow. “But you need the Council’s report on the potion sample to go with it. She’ll need that to compare the two, see if they’re the same.”

Lucy was already at the little table with the communications lacrima. “Got it from Rorke yesterday.”

“Yester— when?” _I was with you every…_

“The concierge desk, please.” Lucy glanced back at Loke. “When you were taking a nap. After lunch, remember? I stopped by Rorke’s room for it.”

Loke set the coffeepot down on the table with probably more force than necessary. “You went to his room?” _Relax, chill, you couldn’t have been asleep more than half an hour. Damn this recovery time!_ He glanced at Lucy. She was still in her blue bathrobe. It looked really soft.

There was an awful lot a creative person could do in half an hour.

“Lazy bastard,” Lucy huffed, as she waited for the concierge desk to come in. “Said he was too damn busy to bring it to me. ‘So get a messenger,’ I said. He was all, ‘Do you _know_ what the wait time is for a messenger right now?’” She shook her head. “I think he just wanted to make me fetch and carry for him. Fucker.”

Loke gripped the edge of the breakfast table to keep himself from moving toward her. “And he gave the report to you? When you got to his room? Just like that?”

“Yes, hi, this is Lady Heartfilia. I need a messenger to take a package to Magnolia. Today, if possible. Yes, thanks, send someone to my room please.” Lucy tapped the lacrima twice to end the call and walked back to the table. “Oh, Rorke just wanted to remind me who was ‘boss.’” She bracketed the word with her fingertips and rolled her eyes.

Loke swallowed. “So, what, you had to ask him pretty please?”

“Basically.” She sipped her coffee. “Damn, that’s good.” Her eyes lifted to Loke’s over her steaming cup. And widened at something she saw in his face. “What… what are you… good lord, what are you thinking?”

Loke crossed his arms defensively. “Well, it’s Rorke, isn’t it? He could have asked you to… well, his sense of humor probably would have —”

“Oh. Oh, Loke, no, _ew_.” Lucy’s nose wrinkled, and she clutched the top of her robe. “I’d never… and I can’t imagine…” She trailed off. Raised an eyebrow. “Well, all right, I can imagine Rorke being that disgusting. But lucky me, he’s still kind of smart, and a move like that would just be political suicide. No.” She took another sip of coffee, but her cheeks were flushed. “He just wanted to go on at length about how confidential it all was, and he really shouldn’t be trusting a guild like Fairy Tail with such top secret blah blah blah.”

The thing about being around Lucy, Loke decided, was that you had to get used to some weird combinations of emotion. For example, right now, he felt a strange mix of relief and a desire to blast all of Rorke’s teeth down his throat. He settled for a noncommittal, “I see.”

A knock sounded at the door. Lucy scurried over with Loke’s file under her arm. “Hi, there! My, that was fast. Come in, come in.”

Loke gave the young messenger a once-over from where he sat at the table. Tall, young, and _is there some rule that Council pages have to be goddamn models?_ The young man entered the apartment’s foyer with a bow, the picture of steam-pressed professionalism.

“Oh, hang on.” Lucy handed him the medical charts folder and spun on her heel. “I just have to grab the rest of the package…”

The messenger offered another wordless bow, but his eyes followed Lucy as she hurried into her room. He cocked his head, clearly taking in her backside, the sway of her hips, her trim little waist. A faint smirk tugged at his mouth.

Loke slurped his coffee loudly.

The boy snapped to attention and shot Loke a terrified glance.

Loke smiled. The friendly one. With all the teeth.

“Here you are.” Lucy sashayed back into the foyer and handed the young man a thick folder and a scrap of paper. “Both of those have to go to the Fairy Tail guild in Magnolia. To Levy McGarden specifically. I’ve written down the name and address —”

“Got it.” The messenger was already backing out the door. “Right away, miss. Ma’am. Milady.”

“W-wait!” Lucy caught his sleeve. “Isn’t there… what’s the fee? I still haven’t —”

“Special service for the Council, I heard. No charge. Back with a reply by this evening!” And the boy was gone.

Lucy stared at the door, slammed shut in the hurry. “Well! What on earth?” She glanced at Loke quizzically.

Loke raised both eyebrows and shrugged.

And wordlessly sipped his coffee.

* * *

 

Another summer evening. Another glittering party in another garden Loke hadn’t known existed on the mansion grounds. Another ball gown he’d never seen before.

Loke watched as Lucy effortlessly surrounded herself with new and old acquaintances alike. The parties had increased in formality as the weeks unfolded, and his master had obviously fallen into her element.

She giggled. She sparkled. She flirted. Her audience ate it up. The runaway heiress to the lost fortune had obviously been welcomed back into the fold.

Loke tried not to feel very left out.

He watched the third well-heeled young heir of the evening try to pull her away from her crowd. She laughed him off yet managed to keep him entertained enough to stay in her web. _What did she need me for again?_

Loke fiddled with his nearly empty glass. At least the whiskey was good. Time for more.

He sidled up to Lucy, placed a hand at the small of her back. The glares were not lost on him. “Your drink, Lady Heartfilia?” he whispered, a bit closer to her ear than necessary.

He felt her shiver under his hand, and he allowed himself a pleased smile. “Loke.” He noticed a faint pink on her cheeks when she realized how close he was. “Just the usual, thank you.” She handed him her empty martini glass. He refrained from brushing against her fingers, mostly to prove he had some modicum of self control after all.

The bartender was efficient. “Crocus single malt?” he asked, smoothly exchanging Loke’s glass for a fresh one.

“And a chilled water. With two lemon slices,” Loke added.

A roar of genteel laughter rose from Lucy’s group, and Loke glanced over his shoulder before he could stop himself. Lucy had apparently told a joke that had gone over well.

Loke glanced at the floor as the bartender rummaged for an ice water. As fun as a month alone with Lucy had sounded a couple weeks ago…

The thought curled away into nothing, as Loke focused on a bit of paper trapped by the leg of the bar. He frowned. There was a swirl of purple ink. It didn’t look like handwriting but… he stooped and snatched it up.

“Drop something, sir?” The bartender presented him with a water bottle and a couple lemon slices in a crystal dish.

“Just some trash.” Loke upended the water bottle into Lucy’s empty martini glass. The bartender gaped as he twisted one of the lemons, its juice clouding the water. Loke arranged the second slice artistically on the rim of the glass. As one, he and the bartender admired the very fake lemon drop martini. “Do keep this under your hat, sir,” Loke whispered. “We, uh, haven’t told the family yet.”

“Oh. Oh, of course, sir! On my honor, sir!”

“Good man.” Loke picked up both his drink (very real) and hers (very not) and made his way back to Lucy’s side.

“Your drink, ma’am.” He reached around a starstruck young thing to hand Lucy her glass. “Custom-made.”

“Mm.” She sipped the lemon water. “Perfect for parties.” And she favored him with one of those smiles.

Okay, so maybe the month wasn’t going to be all bad.

* * *

 

They walked back into their apartment, dripping with sweat from a workout, to the sound of the communications lacrima chirping madly.

Lucy rushed to tap the glass ball. “Levy!” she sang. “How are you, love?”

She watched as Loke went on to his room. _Is he still not up to full strength?_ she wondered. He yanked his shirt over his head, and Lucy had a voyeur’s view of sweaty, muscled back and a pair of impressive triceps before the door shut.

“Lucy? Are you busy? Should I call later?”

Lucy swung her attention back to the lacrima in front of her. She stared into Levy McGarden’s huge brown eyes. “Ah! Nope! What’ve you got for me, Levy?”

“Well!” Levy grinned. “That package you sent me was iiiiiiinteresting.”

Lucy could almost feel her ears perking up. “Yes?”

“Someone was definitely trying to kill Loke.”

Lucy frowned. “Well, you don’t have to sound so pleased about it.”

“What? No! I mean —”

“Give her a break, Luce.” Gajeel Redfox’s face filled the lacrima. “You know what she’s like when she’s excited.”

 _Not as well as you do, I bet._ “Sure, sure. Continue, Levy. Hi, Gajeel!” Lucy waved to the surly dragon slayer.

“What I meant was that, yes, the samples matched,” Levy clarified, “but not how I was expecting them to.”

Lucy furrowed her brow. “And that means?”

“Did you look at the Council’s report on the potion? It’s actually a bit misleading to just say ‘the potion,’” she went on, not waiting for Lucy to say anything. “There are several different formulae of the same theme. As many as ten, from what I understand. The majority of the Council’s potion samples are from the three least toxic iterations. And from their spell breakdown, I’d guess they give a user a simple high, nothing too long-lasting, nothing too incapacitating.”

“Well, it _is_ supposed to be a recreational potion,” Lucy put in, mostly to prove that she had in fact studied up on her job a little bit.

“But they’ve got an interesting side effect. That high is caused by the user’s magic being pulled away from them, juuuuuuusst slightly,” Levy said. “I’m guessing it would cause a bit of a confused, hazy feeling.”

“That sounds like what the doctor told Loke.” Lucy leaned over the lacrima, intense. “Only not as bad. So, what, the potion absorbs a user’s magic?”

Levy hummed. “Not so much ‘absorbs’ as ‘cuts loose.’ But not quite, not with the early stages. I’m guessing the less potent varieties are the ones that are marketed the most heavily. It’s probably quite a pleasant sensation, honestly.”

“And the more potent varieties?” Lucy swallowed.

“Yes. I was, ah, getting to that.” The excitement on Levy’s face was overtaken with a hint of worry. “The potions lose their efficacy quickly. A user won’t feel the same high taking the same formula a second time. They have to go up a notch. And with each step up the ladder, the potions get powerful enough to cut away more magic.”

Lucy felt the sweat cooling on the back of her neck. “Until…?”

“Well. The tenth variety I saw…” Levy chewed her lip. “I can’t imagine it would leave any magic intact.”

Lucy blew out a breath. “What’s the goddamn benefit of that?”

“W-well. I suppose… depending on your view… it kills people?”

“Dark, McGarden.”

“Oh, come on, you _know_ that part. Everyone on the job knows that!”

“But what the hell good is a potion that kills people by sending them into magic deficiency disease? And don’t most people come out of that with bedrest? Why are people dying?!”

“But this takes _all_ of the magic, not just most of it. And it doesn’t let you build anything back up, and by the time it takes the last of it, you’re too weak to bounce back!”

“Gah, but if the point is to kill people, why not just give everyone the final formula then?” Lucy tugged at her hair in frustration. “This doesn’t make any sense!”

“Look, there’s a lot I don’t understand either,” Levy protested. “I’m just telling you how I think it all works! I mean, clearly there’s some kind of point in getting people addicted to the stuff, right? Otherwise it’s an awful lot of trouble to go to. And this shit is not cheap to make, let me tell you!”

Lucy closed her eyes with a grimace. “Okay, so what did you mean when you said Loke’s potion matches but not in the way you thought it should? Or something?”

“Ah.” Levy paused. “Is he around?”

Lucy glanced at his bedroom door. Still closed. “Nope.”

“Well. Well, this is just what I think happened. Given the comparison of the records and —”

“Levy.”

“Right. They gave him the heavy stuff right away.”

Lucy’s eyes flew open. “ _What._ ”

“The tenth potion. That’s what he got.”

“Why?” Lucy hissed through gritted teeth.

Levy shrugged nervously. “Because he’s a spirit? That’s the only thing I can think of. They know he’s a spirit, and they know what you’re doing, and they thought it was their best chance at killing a magical creature.”

Lucy gripped the edge of the stupidly fragile table that held the lacrima. “Why… why didn’t they give it to me?”

“Lucy, babe —”

“Why?” she whispered. “It’d be easier!”

“Well.” Levy hesitated. “Be careful, Lucy.”

“... Right. Thanks, Levy.”

“You know I’m here,” Levy said quickly. “If you need anything —”

“Yeah.” Lucy tapped the lacrima. “Will do.”

As if on cue, Loke’s door opened. The lion spirit stepped out in a clean T-shirt and gym shorts, red hair tousled. He walked up to her, holding out a dry towel. “Sorry, should have brought this to you sooner, but that shower looked so —” 

Lucy walked into his arms. Buried her face in his clean-smelling shirt. And did her damnedest not to cry.

“Lucy? Luce. Hey.” He tugged at her arms gently.

But she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight. As she told him quietly what she’d learned, she felt a strong arm around her shoulders and a warm hand smoothing her hair.

* * *

 

If Loke were honest, which he was sometimes when there was no real need to be otherwise, some of his favorite moments these days were on the walks back to their apartment. After the parties, in the wee hours of the morning, with her heels in his hand and her arm in his elbow.

Tonight’s walk, for example, was no real exception to the pattern. She talked about what she had heard, and he talked about what he had seen.

“Did you _hear_ Lord Percival?” Lucy hissed, tugging at his arm. “He all but admitted he’s spent the past week high as a kite. No wonder I hadn’t seen him at any of the parties yet.”

“So what made tonight special?” Loke glanced down at his master.

“He’s out of his supply. I wonder what level he’s on,” Lucy mused. “He’s getting careless, just jabbering out loud about it.”

“Yeah, but he’s been in your little circle for the past three weeks,” Loke countered. He paused at their apartment door and fished in his pocket for his key. “I’m sure he feels safe.”

“Safe.” Lucy sighed. “Taking that stuff and feeling safe. What do they tell them about it, do you think? When they sell it to them for the first time?”

Loke’s hand closed over the key, and he raised it to the lock. “Probably don’t have to tell them much these days. Once all the cool kids have tried it, it sells itself.”

“Oh, you dropped this.”

Loke turned to see Lucy kneel and pick something up off the marble tile. “Trash?” he guessed. “Oh, wait.” Lucy turned the bit of paper over, and he recognized the purple ink. “No, I picked that up at the bar like a week ago. Forgot I had it.”

He peered over her shoulder as she stretched it taut between two fingers.

“Looks like a label?” Lucy hazarded.

“Not for any brand I recognize.” Loke frowned.

A purple, snake-like eye, surrounded by fine scales, peered back at him, offering no more clues.


	9. Chapter 9

Lucy was in a mood.

She would have to run into Rorke right after breakfast.

And he would have to hint/not hint that the Magic Council thought Fairy Tail wasn’t working quickly enough on the potion job.

With barely a week left at the summer mansion (and honestly, not enough progress to be satisfied with), Lucy’s temper was short enough on its own. Other than Levy’s fantastic study on the potion sample, the job had slowed to a maddening crawl.

"You can tell the Magic Council to keep its shirt on,” she snapped at the officer, dropping all pretense at refinement. He had stopped her in the open-air hall between the sunroom and the guest wing. After she had spent breakfast stewing over all the things she didn’t know. By herself. And the coffee had been absolute rubbish too. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Is this your best?” Rorke raised an eyebrow. He was doing a rather shit job of hiding a grin. “Mercy. Perhaps the Council was misinformed as to Fairy Tail’s skill.”

Lucy wondered if this was what Natsu felt like right before he burst into literal flame. “The best I can,” she repeated shortly. She took a step toward him. “And what exactly are you here for, Lieutenant? Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, helping? Digging up some answers on your own maybe? Surely the Council couldn’t spare you for a month-long vacation at their summer mansion while they foot the bill.” She smirked. “But as far as I can tell, you’ve just been a rather expensive lawn ornament.”

Rorke’s grin evaporated. He lifted his chin to stare down his perfect nose at her. “Hilarious. Coming from a fake heiress with a pet for a partner.”

 _That doesn’t have anything to do with the argument. You are both being petty. You don’t have to do this. You can walk away. You have choices —_ “Loke,” Lucy hissed between clenched teeth, “is a celestial spirit. With more magic in his foot than you have with all your stupid little enchanted tools combined. Guess who I’d rather have for a partner.”

“Someone you can order to fuck you behind closed doors, apparently.”

Lucy sucked in a breath and grabbed for her fleuve d’étoiles.

But then, he was there. Curling a large hand casually around the lieutenant’s neck.

“Loke!” she breathed. “Where… how did… I thought you were sleeping in!”

Sharp canines dazzled in a smile that was slightly feral. Rorke stood stiff as a board as the lion spirit sidled around to lean on him in a friendly manner. Loke had apparently managed to throw on some sweatpants, but other than that, he was barefoot, bare-chested, and despite his smile, obviously pissed.

“Missed you, princess,” Loke purred. He leaned in close to stage whisper in Rorke’s ear. “Separation anxiety is a thing in pets, you know.”

Rorke gritted his back teeth. “Was I wrong? You don’t even have to be called to come.”

“Wow.” Loke chuckled softly. Lucy saw the officer’s skin turn white where Loke’s fingertips pressed harder. “What’s this about, Lieutenant? I’m getting kind of tired of you bullying my mistress when my back’s turned, to be honest.”

“Loke…” Lucy began doubtfully. “We should… probably just go.”

“You pissed she didn’t fall all over you the first time you met her?” Loke whispered, his grip not leaving any room for Rorke to move. “You mad she didn’t turn out to need you the first time you ‘saved’ her from me?”

“You’re both depraved,” Rorke choked out. His hands clenched at his sides, but he didn’t reach up to pull Loke’s hand away.

“No, no.” Loke’s voice was soothing. “ _I’m_ depraved. She’s the only reason I’m not tearing your throat out right now. I don’t think she’d like it.” He tsked. “Even though you did say such awful things. She’s so nice.”

“Loke.” Lucy tried to put any authority into her voice. “That’s enough now. Let the man go. We’re leaving.”

Loke shot her a glance, and Lucy made herself not take a step back. His look was flat and dark and held no trace of his usual teasing. His hand changed its grip on Rorke’s neck but didn’t leave it. She could see the first blush of bruising on the lieutenant’s skin.

“Loke,” she whispered tightly. “Now.”

Jaw clenched, Loke released the man’s neck and walked toward her.

Rorke dragged in a gasping breath. “Finally decided to… call off your animal, Lady Heartfilia? So good of you.” He held a hand to his throat, and Lucy could see his fingers tremble.

Loke snarled, but Lucy caught his arm. “Consider yourself fortunate, Lieutenant, that my _partner_ has decided to overlook your crass comments.” She turned on her heel, and Loke fell into step with her. “Fairy Tail is nothing if not generous with its forgiveness.”

Lucy forced herself to walk calmly, with her head high, until they turned the first corner.

But then she slammed Loke into a wall, pinning him by his stupidly sculptured biceps.

“You,” she hissed. “What are you doing out of bed? You said the thought of breakfast made you want to puke.”

Anger still radiated from him, and he glared down at her. “Your magic went through the roof like ten minutes ago,” he retorted. “What was I supposed to do? It felt like you wanted to summon all your keys at once!”

“Oh, so, what, you decided you were enough? A spirit still recovering from magic deficiency disease? You’re not even supposed to be able to _contract_ that  **—**  you sure as hell shouldn’t be out of bed with the way you were feeling this morning!”

Loke fumed. “It’s been two weeks, and I was just a little tired, that’s all. You’re overreacting.”

Lucy’s eyebrows shot up. “ _I’m_ overreacting? You’re the one who barged out of your bedroom looking for a fight. Look at you! You’re practically naked!”

“Oh, is that why you’ve got me shoved up against a wall? I was a bit confused.”

Lucy saw the faintest glimmer of a smirk hiding in his eyes, and she yanked her hands away from him. “You… what?... _why do you always do that!_ ”

He leaned away from the wall, his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I’m not against the idea.” He was full-on grinning now, and if he wasn’t being _completely ridiculous_ , Lucy might have been relieved that he was out from under Rorke’s dark cloud.

Lucy stopped him with a hand to his chest. “You need to be more careful,” she insisted. It probably wasn’t entirely necessary to emphasize her point by touching him, but. _Well._ If he was going to flirt with her without a shirt on, he’d have to suffer the consequences. “Rorke could have you arrested even with just the little that happened out there.”

“If he did, he’d be delaying the job for the Council.” Loke pressed forward, and her fingers splayed out on his chest. “I’m guessing he’d like to avoid that. I’m probably safe.”

 _Not the word I would ever associate with you._ “Well. Well, stop pushing your luck, okay?” It felt as though the heat from his chest was flowing straight up her arm into her face.

“You want me to stop?” His voice was low, and his smile was _fuck_. “Yours to command and all that.”

Loke was standing completely away from the wall now, putting some serious pressure on her personal space. And Lucy really could have taken her hand away by now, but… he lowered his head. Tilted his chin to the side and looked at her with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. It would take less time than a thought to cock her head and close the distance…

“Yyyyeeaah, wow, aha.” Lucy was stumbling back a couple steps even before she’d fully absorbed the sirens blaring in her brain. “You… you know what we need?”

Loke watched her, a bemused look on his face. “Um? Well, a few things come to mind,” he said finally.

“Hot springs!” she continued, pretending she hadn’t heard him. “Did you know this place has an onsen all its own?”

A flush crept up Loke’s neck. “An... an onsen? You want to…?”

“Yessir.” Lucy spun around and marched stiffly in the direction of their suite. “A couple hours in a hot bath, you on the men’s side, me on the women’s side. Just what we need.”

“Ah.” Lucy heard Loke laugh shortly, then his bare feet were padding along the tiled hall. “Of course. How… relaxing.”

“Right?!” Lucy pushed open their door. She headed straight for her room. “I can’t believe I haven’t thought of it before now. Just the thing to clear our heads.”

“Miraculous.”

Only when Lucy heard Loke’s bedroom door click shut did she risk a glance over her shoulder. Blowing out a breath, she shut her own door quietly. It probably broke some kind of celestial magic code, a mage ogling one of her spirits’ abs like that.

 _A bath. A nice hot bath, and you’ll clear out… whatever’s in your system!_ It was simply the fact that they’d been alone together so much the past few weeks. His flirting never got her this wound up at the guild, for crying out loud.

It took barely a moment to trade her sundress for the yukata the Council stocked in every room. She tied her hair up, stepped into a pair of slippers, and opened her bedroom door the tiniest crack.

The common area was empty. _Why are you nervous? You are being beyond absurd._ Lucy swallowed hard and walked out of her room with as much nonchalance as she could manage.

“Loke?” she called. Her voice only wobbled a tiny bit at the end. “You ready?”

“Two seconds.” His call was muffled. “It’s… been a minute since I put one of these things on. I’m getting used to the idea.”

Lucy laughed. “Really?”  She walked over to their small dining table to wait. She’d left it covered last night with her notes about the job. “I would have thought wearing a yukata for a spirit would be second nature. Like riding a bike.”

“Yeah, ask me when was the last time I rode a bike.” A faint curse filtered through his bedroom door.

Lucy’s grin faded into consternation as she shuffled idly through her papers. _Should probably look over Levy’s notes again. Might have missed something, never know._ “Do you need help?” she called, not really thinking.

“... You offering?”

Lucy frowned and picked up that tiny purple label Loke had found at the bar. They had decided, after some debate, to toss it into their growing file for the Magic Council job. Collect unidentified trash, risk drowning out real data. Dismiss things too carelessly, miss out on key information in unexpected places.

“Loke,” she called, “what do you think of taking this to the next party and asking the bartender if it’s just a —”

Loke’s bedroom door opened, and Lucy’s jaw dropped rather ingloriously.

His yukata was… on. Technically.

It was belted around the hips, and the hem was even, but the collar gaped from his shoulders to his navel. While it was true that Fairy Tail had no shortage of chiseled male specimens, Loke’s lean physique was usually tidied away under a suit. The more primitive parts of Lucy’s brain were making up for lost time.

“What?”

Lucy forced her eyes up to meet his, consciously closing her mouth. Loke’s eyes practically sparkled. _Oh, he fucking_ knows _what he’s doing._ “That,” she said crisply, “is not how you wear yukata for onsen.”

“Is it not? My, my, how modest society has become this century.” He walked toward her, his hands tucked into his sleeves. He made no effort to adjust his robe. “What were you saying, princess? Before I, ah, opened the door?”

 _You conniving cat._ “Nothing.” Lucy shoved the label with the purple snake eye into her own sleeve and pushed away from the dining table. “Clearly you’re ready to go.”

“So ready,” Loke agreed smoothly.

* * *

 

Were Lucy the jealous sort — she was not — the ten-minute walk to the mansion’s hot springs would have been trying. The gazes of most of the women and not a few men slid right over the top of her to land squarely on Loke’s inviting chest. The lion spirit appeared unconcerned, but Lucy would bet money that he was loving the attention.

However, she was not about to give Loke the satisfaction of seeing her pissed off. Not pissed off. Annoyed. Because that’s all it was, all this fawning over the perfect body of an attractive spirit. An annoyance.

And she hid her annoyance, masterfully, right until an attendant directed them to the separate men’s and women’s washrooms.

“Give a shout if you need me, princess.”

Lucy whirled around, a retort at the ready, but Loke waved without looking back as he pushed past the curtain. Really, a plain yukata shouldn’t enhance a man’s shoulders like that.

The ladies’ changing room was all but abandoned. Another young woman was just toweling off to leave. _I guess it’s still kind of early._

Lucy slipped off her yukata and folded it neatly in a basket. She settled on a stool, letting her mind comb gently through its tangles as she washed.

A few regular faces had been missing at the last party. Lucy and Loke had been fairly confident they represented some of the more advanced users in their little group, so naturally it was disconcerting that they were missing. Lucy frowned. They _probably_ weren’t dead. Rorke would have known about it, and repulsive as the man was, he wouldn’t withhold information like that. But five or more guests couldn’t have all been simply ill on the same night. Right?

She rinsed away the soap. And no new users seemed to have appeared. In fact, it was getting less easy to pick up any suggestion that the potion was even at the mansion these days. Not even from the guests who had dropped carelessly proud hints a couple weeks ago. _Could they have pulled it entirely?_ Lucy stilled. When she and Loke hadn’t left after his attack… could the potion makers have opted to quietly abandon the mansion?

“Ohhh myyyyyy, you have some??”

Lucy’s head snapped up. The only other woman in the room was a few feet away, kneeling by the basket containing Lucy’s folded robe. She clutched her hands to her chest and stared at Lucy breathlessly.

“How… how did you manage to get it?” the woman asked, a bit more calmly. “And sorry! I wasn’t… I wasn’t going through your things, it was here on the floor, and I thought I’d put it back for you —”

Lucy waved away the apologies. “No, no, not at all. Um…” She reached for her towel. “What, um, what can I help you with? I’m sorry, I don’t…”

“Oh.” The young brunette laughed self-consciously and stood. “Well, I saw this on the floor…” She held out her hand.

A purple snake eye leered from a crumpled label.

Lucy prayed her face stayed neutral. “Oh, that? It must have fallen from my robe when I took it off. Thanks for picking it up.” _Stop talking. Let her fill in the gaps._

“Yes, um.” The girl swallowed faintly. “I figured. You, uh, have some left?”

 _This has to be…_ Lucy’s brain churned. _This_ has _to be it._ “Sorry.” She flashed a smile.

The young woman all but deflated. “Of… of course. Ha.” She walked forward, handed Lucy the bit of paper. “Who would? It’s just that I, uh, well, I’m sure you know how hard it’s been to get any lately.”

“Mm.” Lucy took the label, glancing it over carelessly. “Why is that, do you think? I’m Lucy, by the way.”

“Nora. I’ve heard any number of things.” The brunette bit her lip. “I think they’re planning to raise the price soon. I bet that’s it.”

“Ah. Making sure everyone's hungry, hm?” Lucy guessed. _Just a little more. Tell me what it’s called. Tell me how you get it! Anything!_

“Bastards. As if it isn’t expensive enough.” Nora sighed. “I’ve had to lie to my dad about two shopping trips now.”

Lucy made sympathetic noises.

“How many times have you had it?”

Lucy inhaled sharply. “Oh. Uh. Just… just the one time.” _Oh god. Oh I hope that’s the right thing to say. Please keep talking._

Nora smiled. “No reason to feel bad. You’ll be able to handle the good stuff eventually. I’m sure they’ll have their supply back up soon.”

“Ah, well, I… I just got mine from a friend. I mean, I tried some he had, so…” Lucy waved a hand. “I’m not actually sure how to, ah. You know.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Here.” Nora gestured for the label again. “You’re a wizard, right? Well, obviously if you’ve had a taste already, you must be.” She laughed. “I mean, you’re still alive.”

Lucy blinked. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. _What_ is _this shit?_

“It’s a simple spell, really.” Nora stretched the paper between two fingers and a thumb. She waved her other hand over it, as though she were wafting a scent to her nose. “I know you see me, you crafty snake,” she chanted softly. “Let’s have a bit more, of what you make. The magic of a thousand lives, comes from just one Gorgon’s Eye.”

The purple ink glowed for half a moment before fading once more.

“And that’s it!” Nora handed Lucy the label again. “Your order should be in. Keep that on you somewhere, and someone should let you know when they’ve got more. It’s been a different person every time for me.” She sighed. “Such a nuisance really. I wish I could just set up a regular delivery.”

“You use a… a nursery rhyming spell to call in drugs?” Lucy asked faintly.

“Isn’t it cute?” Nora giggled. “It’s the little touches that make these things fun. Packaging is everything.” She turned to leave but paused. “Um. If someone gets in touch with you… will you let me know? I haven’t heard of an order being lost yet, but.” She chewed her lip. “It’s been awhile. You know?”

“Oh. Oh, sure!” Lucy said quickly. “Definitely. Yes. Thanks!”

She barely managed to stay seated until the changing room curtain fell back after the woman left. Tossing her towel aside, Lucy all but ran out into the open-air pool.

It was everything a traditional onsen should be. Japanese maples hovered over steaming rocks, and the still water pumped a clean, muggy heat into the small enclosure. Best of all, it was empty.

“Loke!” Lucy hissed, wading into the steamy pool with much less grace than etiquette would have liked. “Ouch! Damn, that’s hot.” But she couldn’t wait to get acclimated. She splashed over to the bamboo fencing that separated the men’s and women’s pools. “Loke, can you hear me?”

“Um. Lady Heartfilia? Did you require something?”

Lucy froze. It was Loke’s voice, definitely. But… _Idiot. Just because you’re alone doesn’t mean he is._ “Ah. Aha. Yes, uh, I’m afraid I need to call our visit short. Meet me outside the changing rooms as soon as you’re able?”

A pause. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

 _Well, shit._ Lucy glanced around the welcoming onsen. It would have been nice to discuss things through the fence, but. They’d just have to come back. Or visit one after the job was over. Her eyes went wide. _You can visit one whenever! And you don’t have to drag Loke along, geez. Visiting onsen with Loke, come on…_

A delicate splash sounded to her left. Lucy turned. And barely avoided screaming her head off.

Loke sat on a rock, a ridiculously tiny towel covering his lap, water droplets shimmering everywhere else.

Lucy instantly sank to her chin in the pool. “What —!”

Loke held out both hands in an emphatic “will you shut up” gesture. He glanced at the bamboo fencing, then at the door to the women’s washroom. He edged into the pool quietly. Lucy closed her eyes at the last second as he set the towel aside on a dry rock.

“Figured you were alone.” His voice was barely audible. “You all right?”

Lucy peeked at him through her hands. He was up to his chest in the steaming water and seated just a few feet from her. His jaw was set, and his muscles looked tensed to move at any second.

She lowered her hands and pulled her knees up to her chest defensively. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “And this is completely unnecessary! You’ll get caught!”

Loke closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “What the hell… you sounded in an absolute panic!”

“How did you get in here?” she hissed.

“You were right on the other side of a very puny wall,” Loke pointed out. “And I’m currently using your magic. You’d be amazed at where I can go if I think you need me.”

Lucy gulped. “Can… can any of the other spirits do that?”

“I don’t know.” Loke grinned, the tension gone from his face. “I think I might be special.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “Have you done this before?”

“No! The idea.”

“Hm.” She eyed him dubiously. “Anyway. You’re here, so I guess — wait, what are you doing?”

Loke half-swam, half-scooted closer, pausing to sit facing her. “I assume you wanted to tell me something. I could barely hear you.”

Lucy wrapped her arms around her knees tightly and tried to submerge her shoulders. “I think it would have been fine.”

“You want me to move?” He raised his arms to rest them on his bent knees. His trapezius and biceps stood out in glistening display.

“No.” Lucy frowned to cover her too-quick answer. “I’ll be quick. A girl in the changing room knew what the label was. It has to be for the potion.”

“Wait. She knew what it was? But you’re not _sure_ it’s for the potion.”

“Well, I couldn’t come right out and ask ‘is this the potion the Magic Council’s trying to shut down,’ could I? But it’s definitely a recreational potion. And she was so cagey about it, it’s got to be illegal.”

“Okay. How do people get it?”

“Um. There’s this silly spell. Like a kid’s spell. And then you just… wait for someone to approach you with a dose? I guess?”

Loke raised an eyebrow. “All right. So what _helpful_ information do you have now that you didn’t have before?”

Lucy flicked water at him and took childish satisfaction in watching him wince in surprise. “She can’t get any right now. No one can. She all but begged me to hook her up with some when she saw I had the label. I guess the label’s like a… calling card? Order form? Communications lacrima? The spell sends your wish through the label to… somewhere.”

Loke wiped his face, shooting her a mock glare. “They’re locking up the supply for now, huh?”

“Seems like it.” _He’s going to get me back, he’s going to, I can feel it._

“Who’s they?” His arms slid off his knees, and he idly rubbed water up and down either arm.

“Um. Either the potion is called the Gorgon’s Eye, or the people behind it are. Maybe it’s the name of a dark guild?” Lucy watched his hands, half out of self-defense and half… well, Loke’s arms were nice.

“Never heard of it.”

“Mm, me neither. I can ask Rorke about the name.”

“I’ll ask Rorke,” Loke insisted. “Or you wait for me to be with you when you do.”

A thrill caught in Lucy’s throat. It was unlike Loke to tell her how things would be. She couldn’t decide if she disliked it or… didn’t actually hate it all that much. “I’ll be fine,” she said, more to see if he’d protest than anything else. “You always provoke him.”

“ _He_ provokes _me_ ,” Loke all but growled. “How is a bastard like that in the Council anyway? He treats everyone like shit, he’s about as cultured as a warthog, and he’s got the magic of a brick.”

Lucy bit the insides of her cheeks. “Pretty magical brick. I seem to recall he took you by surprise once.”

“That was a parlor trick,” Loke gritted. “I didn’t even know he was there.”

“Aw.” She batted her eyes. _Who bats their fucking eyes?_ “Were you distracted?”

And just like that, something in the air changed.

Loke met her eyes. Let his gaze drop to where her body disappeared under the water’s surface. And finally looked at her again with sparkling green eyes. “Well, what can I say, princess? Sometimes I fail.”

“At what?” Her throat was dry, and her voice was barely a whisper.

He smirked and chewed his bottom lip. “At being just a weapon.”

That was no longer flirting. That was just… wrong. Lucy saw her own hand reach out to his hair. She combed it back from his face with her fingers. “You,” she said, her voice low but firm, “are not a weapon. You have never been a weapon.”

His throat moved. “Oh, I don’t know.” His laugh was humorless. “I’ve had masters who definitely thought otherwise.”

“ _You…_ ” Lucy tugged his hair sharply. “... are not my weapon. You’re my partner on this job. You are... someone I trust with my life. My friend. You are my lion spirit. And you’re more brilliant and… and dazzling than any mindless weapon.”

Loke watched her, still as stone.

“Now, no more of that,” she whispered harshly. “Do you hear me? And the next time Rorke or… or anyone makes any comment about… about pets or animals or humans or masters, I’ll —”

“Kiss me.”

Lucy stared at him, her hand frozen in his hair.

He didn’t move. “Master.” His voice was a broken whisper. “Please. Please kiss me.”

Confused, she glanced at his lips, then back up to his eyes. Loke held her gaze, brow furrowed slightly. A muscle flexed in his jaw.

“I… I thought you called me princess.” And she leaned forward on her hands and knees and met his lips softly.

Loke’s mouth fell open with the faintest sigh, but otherwise he remained still. Lucy kept her touch gentle, her lips careful as they moved over his. She brought a hand up to cup his jaw lightly, leaving sweet, soft kisses from the corner of his mouth to high on his cheekbone. A sound halfway between a whimper and a sigh caused her to pull back and search his eyes.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Please don’t say it has to stop.”

His color was high, and she’d never seen him like this. No bravado, no over-the-top flirtation. Just a bare sort of pleading.

Lucy leaned forward to put her lips against his ear. “Then. Why are you making me do all the work?”

She heard him swallow, and a hand came softly to her cheek. “What… tell me what you want me to do.”

Heat shot through her. No one had ever… well. It was a heady phrase. _What do I want him to…?_ “Kiss me, Loke,” she whispered into his ear.

In a matter of seconds, Lucy wondered if she had flipped some sort of switch. Loke took control of the kiss immediately, his mouth sliding over hers. His hands ran down her neck, sending shivers along her spine despite the heat of the water. His fingers curled around her ribs, swept over the taper of her waist, and fanned over hips. He groaned as he felt the curve of her ass, and he left her lips to bury his face in her neck.

“Do you want something, Loke?” she teased. “Tell me.”

“You’re asking me… what I want?” he breathed. “You’re smarter than that, princess.”

“Oi.” Lucy slapped the back of his head lightly. “No back talk. I ask, you tell me.”

He shuddered against her, and Lucy’s mouth fell open at the strange rush of empowerment. “I want all of you on me,” he mouthed against her neck. “Please?”

“Show me,” even as she shivered at her own demand.

Another sound escaped him as he leaned back against a smooth stone, his hands under her ass, pulling her onto him. Lucy released a breath slowly as she felt her breasts mold to his chest, felt her core scrape against hard abs. Her knees landed softly on either side of his waist.

Loke reached both hands to hold her face gently, his mouth coaxing her lips to part for his tongue. He paused for a moment to pull back, look into her eyes. Lucy watched him watch her, wondering how much of her blush she could blame on the heat of the springs.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sure it’s falling out everywhere,” she said, quietly self-conscious.

“You’re perfect,” he said immediately.

Lucy thought about rolling her eyes. But before she could react, he grasped one of her hands and brought it to his mouth. “Lucy,” he said, his voice low. “Listen. Princess.” His mouth quirked, and a hint of the Loke she was used to showed in his face. “I'm... willing to do anything you want.”

Was it possible to blush more? “Anything?” she said, trying to maintain any semblance of poise.

“... Pretty much anything. Definitely willing to hear what anything is at least. That includes…” Loke held both of her hands to his slick chest. “... not going any further. If you say the word.” He seemed about to say more, but he shut his mouth and watched her.

 _He’s giving you an out, girl. Smart man._ She ran her eyes over his drenched hair, the freckles on his shoulders, his smooth skin sweating from the heat. _You have a magical contract with this guy. Who knows what would change?_

“What if…” She leaned forward, pressing her breasts into his chest once more, and he gasped. “What if that’s not the ‘anything’ I had in mind?” _Fuck this guy, fuck his incredible body, and fuck staring at all this every day for a month and not doing anything about it._

Lucy rested her arms on his shoulders. His eyes closed as she played with his hair. “LIke I said,” he whispered. “Anything.”

She trailed one hand down his chest. Damn if she wasn’t going to test firsthand what everyone had been ogling on the walk to the springs.

The… springs.

Lucy lifted her head. _Oh goddamn._ The onsen. The goddamn Magic Council’s very own fucking onsen. No. Nope, this was not happening here, for fuck’s sake.

But.

She glanced down at the lion spirit in her arms and between her legs. His head was leaned back against a smooth rock in bliss, ginger hair clinging to ridiculous cheekbones, corded neck exposed. All for her.

 _Damn me._ Lucy bent down and bit his neck. Right under his ear, like a fucking vampire. His whole body stiffened, and Lucy felt his hardness brush her ass. He sighed, the loudest yet, and Lucy knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught.

“Lucy,” he breathed. His hands slid up her waist, and his thumbs swept lightly underneath her breasts.

“You and I,” she muttered against his neck, “are going back to our suite.”

He froze.

“We are going to enjoy at least one of our ridiculously comfortable beds, like adults,” she continued, testing his earlobe with her teeth. “Not get caught like teenagers in a public place.”

Loke gulped. Lucy pulled back slightly, gauging his reaction with raised eyebrows. “Yes, ma’am.” His voice was a bit hoarse.

“Right. Now, you magic your ass back into your changing room, and I’ll meet you out in front. No tricks this time.”

Loke sat up, pressed a quick kiss to her open mouth, and hauled himself out of the pool in a not-unimpressive display of muscle. Not bothering to wrap his towel around his hips, he glanced back to where Lucy sat, dumbfounded, in the pool. “You liked my trick.” He smirked and was gone in a glimmer of gold.

* * *

 

The walk back to their suite was long. Definitely longer than it had been to get to the damn onsen in the first place.

Lucy kept her arm looped through his, as she normally did. Unfortunately, Loke hadn’t tied his yukata any better this time, and now she knew what that core felt like. If anything, walking casually next to it was now much worse. She was also pretty sure, though a lady would never stare, that his hard-on hadn’t completely faded in the time it took him to dry off and dress.

He unlocked the suite, let her walk in first, and then looked so… adorably unsure of what to do as he shut the door behind them. But then, perhaps taking charge was becoming a little easier for her each time.

Lucy closed the distance between them, pushing him lightly by the shoulders up against the door. She slid one hand down his ribs and clicked the lock, feeling his chest heave underneath her other hand.

“You do not make this easy, do you, lion spirit?” She swept both hands under that stupidly lopsided yukata and stood on her toes to reach his lips.

“Depends.” Loke’s voice was muffled under her somewhat sloppy kiss. “How does the princess want it?”

“Are you ever not going to call me that?” she protested, but Loke bent his head to her neck. “Ah, no teeth!”

He pulled back to look at her reproachfully. “You used teeth on me,” he pointed out. “Quite a lot of teeth. I can still feel it.”

She raised an eyebrow even as she blushed. “And you liked it.”

Loke pulled in a deep breath and looked at her through long lashes. “Kind of a lot.”

Lucy heard a little sound escape her. “Maybe teeth later,” she whispered, staring up at him.

His grin was delicious as he bent his head to hers.

 _Knock. Knock._ “Message for Lady Heartfilia, if you please.”

Lucy and Loke stared at each other, but both managed to not make a sound. The voice on the other side of the door was startlingly loud.

“Miss Heartfilia?”

Lucy jerked her head at Loke, and he slid away from the door. She took a moment to adjust her robe, smooth back her hair, and school her face into something not resembling a death glare for whoever was behind the interruption.

She opened the door, a distantly polite smile on her face. “Yes?”

A purple-haired young man, slim and petite, handed her an envelope. “We received your message, ma’am. Happy to have you in our clientele.” He bowed crisply and turned on his heel without another word.

Lucy stared after him until he rounded a corner. Loke nudged the door closed and peered over her shoulder.

The envelope was stamped with a purple snake eye. Her name, Lady Lucy Heartfilia, curled underneath it in old-fashioned script.

_The Gorgon’s Eye_

_requests the pleasure of your company_

_at the Magic Council’s End of Summer Gala_

_on Saturday, the xx of ____,_

_at eleven o’clock in the evening,_

_in the West Library._

_We look forward to_

_thanking you for your patronage_

_upon the occasion._

_The favor of a reply will not be necessary._


	10. Chapter 10

Levy tapped the lacrima and pursed her lips. Fighting was not her favorite thing ever. Studying, research, cracking spells — that was where she was at. Unfortunately, she had a sneaky suspicion that Lucy had been correct during their call just now — Fairy Tail and the Council needed what only she could bring to the table.

There was a party coming up, Lucy had said, and it would be the showdown. The dark guild distributing the potion would be as out in the open as it would ever be.

“I need someone on the ground, Lev,” Lucy had pleaded. “I just know the Council’s not telling me everything, and you know more than anyone else about what we’re dealing with here. Come with?”

Levy had paused. Of course she was going to say yes. She was a Fairy Tail wizard after all. She just… needed a moment to wrap her head around the idea of signing up for a battle.

“I was going to ask Gajeel to come too.” Lucy’s voice was too innocent. “And Natsu, of course. With the two of them wreaking havoc like they do, you, me, and Loke can move more subtly.”

Levy narrowed her eyes at the lacrima. Well, of course she’d said yes after that. _I was going to anyway!_ So what was with that subtle dig about Gajeel, really?

Lucy was just too smart for her own good sometimes.

“What’s botherin’ ya, shrimp?” Two huge arms crossed under her chin, and Gajeel leaned over her shoulder.

Levy wondered not for the first time if the iron dragon slayer could feel her heart slamming against his forearms whenever he did this.

“That was Lucy.” Levy was proud of how even her voice was. She wasn’t entirely sure what she and Gajeel were, exactly — _friends with benefits? official couple?_ — and she’d be damned if she was the first to show confusion. “You up for a job?”

“Always.” Gajeel straightened, and his hands fell away from her. “You comin’ too?”

Levy turned slowly and looked way, way up into that gorgeous pierced face. “Lucy wanted to make sure I was. You, apparently, are my carrot on a stick.”

Gajeel stared at her. Then one of his slow smirks slid into place. “Well,” he drawled. “Anything for Fairy Tail.”

* * *

 

Lucy watched as Cancer faded into a cloud of gold, then swiveled to regard her reflection. Having a spirit with an affinity for hairdressing was unfortunately relieving only a fraction of her stress.

She stood from her dressing table with a groan. Maybe she’d call Virgo to figure out a dress for tomorrow night. “But not now,” Lucy whispered, pushing aside the curtain to her room’s small patio. “Not now.” The night was moonless, and Lucy breathed in deeply at the sight of the stars. She settled on a lounge.

Tomorrow night. Midnight.

The Gorgon’s Eye would be waiting in the library. Lucy frowned up at the stars. Along with who knew how many of its clients. How to locate its guild master? How to shut it down without harming any of the guests?

A knock sounded at her bedroom door. “Lucy? How’s it look?”

Lucy froze in her chair. _Loke._ She glanced back into her room. She’d turned out all the lights to enjoy the stars. Her sheets glowed white in the dimness.

“I’m out on the patio,” she called, trying to keep her voice level.

Her door opened, and Loke stepped into the room. For a moment, he was silhouetted against the low light of the hall, his red hair on fire. Lucy blew out a breath. That night at the onsen seemed so far away now. Its atmosphere was like something out of a dream.

“Cancer does prefer formal updos,” Loke noted with a grin as he joined her on the patio. He squatted next to her lounge, his elbows on his knees. “Me, personally, I prefer your hair down.”

Lucy gave her hair an exaggerated pat. “Well, you’ll just have to deal, won’t you? If I’m going to be a buyer for the most expensive underground potion in Fiore tomorrow night, I have to look the part. I still need a dress, too.”

Loke frowned. “None of this bothers you? I mean, the Gorgon’s Eye has to _know_ who you are and what you’re doing. Right? They poisoned me, and now they’ve got an order from Lady Lucy Heartfilia. They know damn well you’re from Fairy Tail.”

Lucy smiled. “I’m sure they do. And that’s where this is so much like all the political games I grew up with.”

“... What, with everyone pretending that everyone _doesn’t_ know exactly what’s going on?”

“Oh, but that’s how it works.” Lucy leaned forward. “It’s a race to see who breaks the facade first. Who can get in the barbs that look perfectly innocent on the outside, but if you know what I know and you know that I know you know, there are all kinds of delicious little meanings.”

Loke stared at her. “And you left this world why? You, ah, seem to have an affinity for it.”

“Ah. Um? Do I? Ha.” She chuckled nervously. “Steeped in it since birth, I suppose. You probably never lose the taste for it.”

Loke rested his elbows on her lounge. His forearms were dangerously close to her thigh, she noted. “So do you have a plan for tomorrow night?” He grinned. “Not that I mind winging it on your fancy hair and your taste for games.”

Lucy shot him a side-eye glance. “Look who’s talking. You’ve soaked up the attitude here quite well.”

“Not at all. You could say I’m naturally catty like that.”

Lucy groaned. “That is so terrible, I can’t… _no_ , I don’t have a plan. Exactly. I know where to show up, I know what to look like, and we’ve got more Fairy Tail people on the way. We’ll be fine.”

“We’re never fine,” Loke pointed out. “We arguably mess more shit up than we have to because Fairy Tail never fucking plans anything.”

She winked. “And that, my dear lion, is why I left this world for Fairy Tail.”

Loke watched her, expressionless. After a long moment, Lucy smoothed her robe over her knees, anything for an excuse to look away.

“My offer still stands, you know.”

She looked up at him then. Green eyes met hers openly. His dress shirt collar was undone at his throat, and his hair ruffled in the barely there breeze. _Goddammit._

“Remind me of what that was,” she choked.

Loke filled his lungs slowly, exhaled silently. He moved to his knees and, not taking his eyes off hers, began to unbutton his shirt.

Lucy felt her pulse jump as he shrugged out of the white button-down. It was promptly followed by his thin undershirt. The patio was dark — starlight didn’t do much to illuminate the picture he portrayed, kneeling there in front of her in only his pants and slippers.

“Is your memory any clearer?” Loke’s voice was soft and held no demand.

Lucy took a moment but finally leaned her head back against the lounge with a sigh. She stood and walked past him into her room.

“... Lucy?”

“You are going to be the death of me, lion.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Get in here. It’s too cold out tonight for you to be like that.”

There was a pause where neither of them moved. Then she heard him pad into the bedroom and slide the curtain shut behind him.

She felt him close behind her, warmth radiating off his skin through her bathrobe.

“I was wrong about your hair.” His whisper stirred the fine hairs on her neck, and Lucy shivered. “You look like a queen like this.”

Lucy had to open her mouth to breathe. “Do queens usually wear the same bathrobe they’ve had for ten years?”

“Well, I can’t speak for the average queen. But if _mine_ is feeling less than satisfied with her robe, I’d be happy to take it off her.”

Lucy couldn’t help it. She laughed, and Loke wrapped his arms around her waist. His lips brushed against her neck, softly, almost hesitantly, and Lucy’s laugh caught in a soundless gasp. She felt his hands find the loose knot of her robe’s belt.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered into her hair. “Or tell… tell me what you want.”

 _What I want._ Lucy tilted her neck to one side and closed her eyes to feel him mouth her skin. _I want…_ “Loke,” she breathed. “Stay with me tonight.”

He released the smallest groan, buried his face in her neck. “Any- anything you want. My lady.”

It was a phrase she should have hated. All her life, it was a title that had reeked of games and lies and expectations and baggage. But in his voice… on Loke’s lips, it shared a more intimate flavor.

The belt of her robe came free, and she felt him tug the worn fabric past her shoulders. He followed the exposed skin, feathering kisses over a shoulder, down an arm, until Lucy couldn’t stop a whimper as he sucked at the inside of her wrist.

Her gown wasn’t anything to write home about. _Well, it’s not like I was_ planning _on getting laid at this place!_ Lucy’s face, already flushed, blossomed into a deeper shade of red. Simple cotton, it went to her knees and fell over one shoulder. Hardly seduction material.

But as her robe fell to the floor, Loke made a pleased sound. “Is this what you wear every night?” He gathered the plain material at her waist in his hands and let it fall again.

Lucy turned in his arms. “Does the standard Loke seduction usually include a closet inventory?”

Loke’s hands stilled on her hips. “Uh… were you expecting something a little less… freestyle?”

“Pants,” Lucy said. “Off.”

He raised an eyebrow but moved to unhook his belt buckle. “You know, speaking of things that are seductive versus not…”

“Oh, did that not work for you?” Lucy leaned in close and let her lips brush his jaw. “Loke? Please take your pants off for me?”

She saw his throat move as he swallowed. “That, uh, that works.” His voice was a bit hoarse. Charcoal gray slacks slid to the floor with a whisper, revealing dark purple boxer briefs.

Lucy backed away, made a show of looking him up and down. He was leanly muscled, and his stance was casually confident even as he stood still for her perusal. _Even half naked,_ she mused, impressed. _You can’t shake this guy._

She walked to the low bed and paused with her back to him, knowing he was watching every move. Lucy slipped the cotton shift over her head, feeling her fancy updo catch a bit. “Come to bed, Loke,” she said softly over her shoulder. It had been… well, it had been _awhile_ since she’d been like this with anyone. Not everyone had Loke’s confidence when they stood topless in their underwear with an audience.

“Lucy…”

She felt his approach, felt every hesitant step. His energy seemed to reach out for her in waves. Was it his magic, amplifying their connection? _Or am I just that ready to—_

Her thoughts shorted out as strong hands settled on her hips. “Lucy,” he whispered again, trailing kisses from the nape of her neck along her spine to her waist. She held her hands to her chest and tried to keep her breathing even.

His hands, firm and warm, swept across her back and up her neck. “I’m taking your hair down,” he murmured, and Lucy nodded silently. But she couldn’t stop a soft moan as his fingers combed through her hair, finding the pins, the tiny jewels, and coaxing blonde strands to fall to her shoulders again.

Loke held her head in the palm of a hand, wove his fingers deep into her hair. And tugged. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against his chest. He tested his teeth against her neck, not hard enough to leave any mark.

She sighed then, long and breathy. Loke groaned against her skin. His arm tightened around her shoulders, and her eyes flew open as he quite literally swept her off her feet and into his arms.

“Loke!” she squealed — _squealed, really? Are you sixteen?_ — and she did her best to cover her breasts with her arms.

But his kisses were covering her eyelids and her nose and her temple and her hair, and he was holding her like she weighed nothing at all. He inhaled her like he wanted high off of her being, and _holy hell_. Lucy half-wondered if her arms rose of their own accord, slithering around his neck, her fingers in his red hair, making sure his lips found hers.

He broke the kiss long enough to rest a knee on the bed, and then he was lowering her to the sheets, tugging the covers over them both.

Lucy watched him as he straddled her, her hands still in his hair. Loke braced himself with one hand by her head, and the other… the other traced her jaw, her neck, her collarbone… slid down her sternum… and stopped, hesitantly, just shy of her right breast.

She could see the questions in those green eyes. The self-disdain that always fluttered just behind his usual teasing. She held his gaze, saw the want, the fear, the need there.

“Lucy, I… please…” he began, shaking his head.

“Loke.” She cupped his face in both hands. “Love me.”

He stared at her. Color suffused his cheeks, and she imagined she could even see his ears turn red in the dimness. “My heart,” he whispered. “Do you have any idea…”

Making love to a celestial spirit… how many celestial mages had even thought of this? She was losing herself to his kisses even as her mind nagged at her. How many rules of magic were they shattering tonight with delicate hands, with demanding touches?

Her sighs became moans, and Loke answered her with his own. Her fingers slipped over fine sweat — _Loke. Loke._ Her mind screamed for her until she was crying his name as he whispered feverishly into her hair, _I’m yours. Have me, keep me, hold me, touch me._

_Yes. Yes, my beautiful lion. Yes._

_Always._

* * *

 

They lay quietly in the dark, drifting in and out of sleep. Fingertips traced sweat-lined muscle, mouths offered soft, undemanding kisses, legs tangled together under sheets that had been only partially smoothed out.

“Loke.”

“... mmm?”

She smiled without opening her eyes. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Mm.”

“About my dress tomorrow.”

“Mmf.” Loke turned on his side and threw an arm over her stomach. “Go like this.”

She swatted his hand. “Pervert.”

He opened an eye, sleepy but satisfied. “You liked it.”

“My _dress,_ Loke.”

“Let’s stay here and be naked. Fuck the Council. Fuck the Gorgon’s Tiny Balls.”

“I’m going to wear my Leo star dress.”

He came fully awake then, propped himself on an elbow to stare at her.

“I’ve decided,” she continued, fidgeting with the hem of the sheets. “I want… I want us to fight together tomorrow night. I want you to know we’re… whatever happens, we’re a team. Right?”

Loke licked his lips. He looked away, but Lucy got the hint he was more pleased than he wanted to let on.

“It’s an attractive gown,” he said finally. “I suppose we should go.”


	11. Chapter 11

Crystal chandeliers filled every corner of the Magic Council’s ballroom with elegant, flickering light. Just bright enough to let every diamond sparkle to its fullest, no more.

At the far end of the enormous space, just above the chamber music ensemble, a large golden clock ostentatiously declared the time to be quarter till eleven.

 _Plenty of time._ Lucy accepted a wine glass from Loke with a pretty smile. The West Library was just on the other side of the ballroom. They could make their way slowly, casually, to the meeting of the Gorgon’s Eye.

She tapped her teeth lightly against her glass. What exactly did the dark guild have planned for its little meeting? And how on earth were they going to try to keep it hidden and secret in any way?

No doubt they would have figured out some nasty little surprise for anyone who wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Relax, princess.” Loke grinned down at her. He looked annoyingly at his ease in a perfectly fitted tux. As though he rubbed shoulders with the magical elite of Fiore every day.

“I’m perfectly relaxed,” Lucy insisted. She settled her shoulders gracefully to prove the point.

Green eyes twinkled back at her, but he didn’t call her out. Loke reached for her hand, and with practiced ease, they moved about the ballroom. They chatted with a couple here, laughed at a joke with a group there, and swept from circle to circle until they arrived at the single wooden door behind the ballroom’s fireplace.

Loke put a hand on the door as it closed after an elegantly dressed elderly couple. Lucy heard him inhale deeply, and she shot him a look. The smooth ease from before was replaced with a tight jaw, eyes narrowed and focused.

 _Holy shit._ She could feel his magical energy. It was pulsing, growing subtly more intense with each beat, and she could feel it surround her, thanks to her Leo Star dress. Simply a black evening gown on the outside, the dress enveloped her in Loke’s celestial magic.

Lucy bit her lip. They were both much stronger now, even more so than at the beginning of summer. Surely they would be able to maintain the dress’ powerful spell through the entire evening. _Surely?_

She laid her free hand calmly on his bicep as he pushed through the library’s door.

Loke glanced down at her, and she felt his energy spike and fall again at her touch. A slow grin spread across his face. The magical energy pulsing over her settled into a pleasing glow.

 _That’s right._ Lucy glanced around the cavernous Grand Library, willing her own magic to calm down. _Save our strength. Who knows how long this night will be._

Even more dimly lit than the ballroom, the mansion’s library was lined with the mandatory floor-to-ceiling shelves and decked out with wheeled ladders and green leather furniture. Whereas chatter in the ballroom had been loud and bright, the conversation here was muted, refined, and serious. Two or three servers navigated the small crowd with ease, handling trays that — _wait a minute._

Lucy tried to get a closer look at a passing tray without being obvious. “Loke,” she breathed. She felt his awareness heighten around her, and she knew he saw it too.

No hors d'oeuvres were being served in this room. Rather, small vials stood in delicate golden racks, their contents glittering like deadly liquid gems. Lucy watched, her heart in her throat, as the elderly couple who had entered the room just in front of them picked over a tray as though selecting a fine cigar.

The door knob jiggled violently behind them, and Lucy jumped.

“Locked!” a muffled voice exclaimed.

“How bizarre,” replied another, softer voice. “I was sure I’d seen a couple people walk in here.”

“I can’t believe you’re already drunk,” the first voice complained. “Come on, I’m sure there’s something exciting happening in the billiard room…” Footsteps faded away on the other side of the library’s door.

“A necessary precaution, ma’am.”

Lucy squeaked at the voice at her elbow, grabbing reflexively for Loke.

A purple-haired young man stood next to her, a tray balanced in one hand. He regarded her calmly.

“Oh.” Lucy took a tiny step away from Loke, and she heard him snort. “You’re the one who gave me the invitation last week.” She very carefully did not look at Loke. She had certainly not forgotten that he’d been pressing her against the door when the messenger had knocked at their suite.

“Monsieur Ven, at your service. You placed an order with the Gorgon’s Eye.” The purple-haired man offered her his tray. “We apologize for the delay in fulfilling it, and we hope that you might accept this evening as an inexcusably small apology.”

“Ah… of course. Monsieur Ven.” Lucy clutched her handbag to her chest, having less than any desire to touch the vials. “These things happen.”

Ven held out the tray a fraction closer. “Your graciousness is beyond our expectation,” he said gravely. “As an honored patron of our humble endeavors, your invitation allows you — and your guest…” He bowed to Loke. “... to enter the Grand Library this evening.”

“I see.” It was all Lucy could do to not back away from the tray. “And those without an invitation…?”

Ven gestured to the door behind them. “A locked door is soon dismissed as boring and tedious at a large party. The Magic Council’s Summer Gala will no doubt furnish any curious onlookers with other distractions.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes. What could have been on that invitation to brand those who received it?

“Your order is here, ma’am.” Ven pointed at a small vial of emerald green liquid. “I understand you have never sampled the Gorgon’s Eye before this evening?”

Lucy felt Loke stiffen at her side. “Your information is certainly complete,” she said. She kept her smile cool, that of a lady deigning to compliment a server.

“Then, please.” Ven selected a second, slightly larger vial and placed it next to the green sample. The liquid inside glowed a deep pink. “The second formula as well, compliments of the Gorgon’s Eye, madame.”

Lucy swallowed hard. The vials were strangely repulsive. She doubted she could pick one up without looking as though she held a dead mouse by the tail.

Loke reached in front of her and calmly plucked the offending vials out of their golden rack. “My lady thanks you,” he said and bowed smartly. He slipped the two vials inside his jacket.

Ven flushed. “Oh. Of course.” He tugged at his jacket and cleared his throat. “There is a small antechamber just on the other side of the fireplace, if you desire to sample your order. Take it as you would your favorite cocktail.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow imperiously. “I am not accustomed to taking my drinks from a glass tube.” _Don’t make me take this, I won’t, I am not drinking this, no way in hell—_

“You will find a variety of crystal stemware and all of the most exotic garnishes in the tasting room for your convenience.” Ven bowed. “If you’ll excuse me…”

She felt Loke’s hand at her elbow as Ven stepped over to a newly arrived guest with his deadly silver tray.

“Lucy,” Loke whispered. “I’ve just realized. Ven said the invitation allows us to enter the library. But…”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “Enter.”

Loke blew out a breath. “We’re so stupid.”

Lucy fought down panic. “No. No, we would have done this anyway, you know we would have.” She forced herself to smile, and she was confident in her years of practice that it looked natural. “Well. I think we know what we have to do now.”

Loke eyed the door to the tasting room, discreetly positioned in a wall of artwork. “When are we expecting the others?” he asked quietly.

“Not for another hour.” Lucy glanced around. A tall man in a dark purple suit was now stationed at the exit to the ballroom. _It probably wouldn’t even open for me anyway._ “But we’ll be fine.” _Trapped. We are trapped_.

Loke said nothing, but she sensed his heightened magic as he followed her across the room. She wondered if any of the other wizards in the library could sense him. He was a loaded gun in a tux.

She put a hand on his arm. “I’m going in first,” she whispered.

“We don’t know what’s in there,” Loke protested softly. “We won’t have time for you to call another spirit. Let me open the door.”

Lucy reached for the handle. “If I have to, I can use one of your Regulus spells.” She tossed him a smile. “My dress. Remember?” She pushed open the door without waiting for a response. _Because like hell am I going to send you in to cover for me._

A tasteful reading room greeted them. Warm and welcoming, a few long tables were covered in garnish trays and crystal serving dishes instead of books. Elegantly dressed wizards sipped shimmering liquid from champagne flutes, genteel laughter and soft voices murmuring pleasantly.

Lucy released a sigh. Ignorant wealthy people getting high. She wasn’t certain what she’d been expecting, but this wasn’t too—

The door closed behind Loke with a faint _click_.

The reading room evaporated.

“Holy shit,” Loke breathed.

Lucy covered her mouth with both hands. In the low, clinical light of the tiled room, there must have been thirty, no, fifty beds chained to the walls. Wizards — male, female, young, old — were stretched out on sterile cots, their wrists bound to the bed rails.

A few stared back at Loke and Lucy with wide, terrified eyes, but the rest… Lucy’s stomach threatened to crawl up her throat. The rest lay motionless on white sheets, their faces sunken, eyes closed or else staring sightlessly up into the dark ceiling. Beside each bed, glowing canisters pulsed with purple light.

“Miss… Lucy...”

Lucy’s eyes snapped up to follow the voice. A young woman with dirty green hair was staring at her from one of the cots. “Miss…” she whispered hoarsely. “Help…”

Loke was at her side before Lucy could even move. “Gladys. It’s Gladys, right?” He bent over the young woman’s face. “Can you move?”

“Miss…?”

Lucy spun at another voice. She didn’t recognize the face, but… no, she’d seen him at most of the parties. _At least. Early in the summer._ She’d forgotten—

“Ma’am?” Faint. From one of the farthest cots.

“Miss?”

“Please…”

“Ma’am? Help?”

“Thirsty…”

“Miss, I’m sick…”

“Can you…?”

_Bbzzzzzztttttt._

Each bedside canister flared with purple light, and each wizard screamed, even the ones who as yet hadn’t so much as opened their eyes. Loke roared, holding onto Gladys’ shoulders as she convulsed on her bed. Lucy barely felt her nails dig into her own face as she screamed.

And just like that, the wizards as one fell silent. They stilled on their cots as though instantly asleep. The purple light settled back to a steady glow. Lucy watched, frozen, as Loke stared into Gladys’ unconscious face.

“What… what…?” Lucy choked.

“You’ll have to forgive them,” a calm voice said. “They can get overexcited.”

Lucy turned slowly on her heel.

“... Emilia?”

The petite brunette smiled warmly at Lucy. “I was wondering when you’d drop in.”

Loke rose from Gladys’ cot with a roar, but Emilia waved a hand. He froze mid-step.

“Emilia!” Lucy shouted. She felt her keys weighing heavily in her dress’ pocket, but _this is Emilia. I can’t just… I can’t._ “What are you doing? Let him go!”

“Oh, he’s fine, Lucy, you don’t have to be so dramatic.” Emilia walked to her and held out a hand. “It’s so difficult to talk in here. Let’s go where we can have a drink without bothering our guests.”

“Your guests?” Loke snarled. “You’re killing these people, I can smell it.”

Lucy gritted her teeth. “Emilia. You tell me right now—”

Loke dropped to his knees, his fingers clawing at his throat. “The… f-fuck…!” His voice was strangled, and his face went white.

“Loke!” Lucy moved to run to him but found herself unable to take the next step. Her dress flickered, fading in and out to the bathrobe she’d been wearing when she had called the spell for the enchanted gown. _Loke. Loke!_

“Come on, Lucy,” Emilia tutted, but the casual tone in her voice was strained. “Let’s go, or you’re going to make your little hero pass out. Cute dress, by the way, you’ll have to tell me where you got it.”

Lucy spun around, her teeth bared. “Let him go! Right now, Emilia, or so help me—”

But Emilia turned from her. “You can’t do anything in here, Lucy. If you want to fight me or hear what I have to say, you’ll come with me.”

Lucy shot an anxious glance at Loke. His eyes were showing white, his tongue out in a helpless retch.

“Prove to me you’ll leave him alone,” Lucy demanded, her gown completely replaced by her bathrobe now. “Or I promise you, I’ll kill you.”

Emilia’s lips thinned, but she waved a hand. Loke gasped on the floor, his hands cradling his throat. Lucy’s Star Dress flickered back into existence.

Relief, temporary and fragile, flooded Lucy. But she nodded. “Right. Let’s go.” She paused in front of Emilia as the woman held open a small side door. “I will know if he’s hurting while I’m gone. And I’d truly rather not kill you.”

Emilia ushered her into an adjoining sitting room with an irritated gesture. “You know, you liking a guy is really pissing me off.”

Lucy felt a surge in Loke’s magic and chanced a look over her shoulder. He had gotten to one knee, his breathing ragged. But he was watching her through shaggy hair, and his lips turned up at one corner.

 _That son of a bitch heard that._ “I’ll be back for you, Loke,” Lucy said, making sure her voice rang out strong. “Take care of the others.” _Wait for me. Be safe. Help them._

He nodded once, his grin feral, and Lucy walked out of the room.

Emilia closed the door behind them with a bit more force than necessary. “All right, can you forget about your crush for five minutes while we talk?” She crossed her arms. “I mean, I’ll grant you that he’s cute, but seriously. ‘I’ll be back for you?’”

“You attacked one of my spirits. One of my best, not that that particularly matters.” Lucy faced her.

“Your point is? He’s a spirit, he’ll be fine in no time.” Emilia shrugged. “I have studied celestial spirit magic, you know.”

“Clearly not well enough. Spirits can feel pain, and I will not stand for any of mine to endure it needlessly. So my point is,” Lucy said through gritted teeth, “you and I are not friends. And you will explain to me what’s happening on the other side of that door.”

Emilia lifted her chin. “Lucy Heartfilia, coming to me for answers for once? I feel like savoring the moment.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “Something you’d like to say?”

“Something needs to be said? Years ago, you threw me over for a guild called Fairy Tail, and now you’ve just declared we’re not even friends. Seems to me you’ve covered all the fucking bases.”

“What are you _talking_ —”

“Fairy Tail!” Emilia spat. “You joined goddamn Fairy Tail, and fuck me if I know how you did it!”

Lucy blinked. “I… I don’t—”

“I mean, I probably could have joined Mermaid Heel, hell, even Sabertooth, probably, but Fairy Tail?” Emilia waved a hand, irritated. “I couldn’t even get Makarov to look at me. I know you’re not that much better than me!”

“That’s… that’s not really how it works—”

“But it’s okay, it’s alright.” Emilia smoothed the front of her evening dress, collecting herself. “I figured out how to take care of it.”

Lucy raised both eyebrows. “What did you take care of?”

“It was clearly just a deficiency in natural magic.” Emilia shrugged. “I just needed… more.”

“More.” A sinking feeling settled in Lucy’s gut. “You figured out how to get more… magic.”

Emilia grinned, and the effect was unsettling. “Surely you’ve noticed that magical power isn’t exactly distributed equally? It took me a few years, and my potion still has a couple unexpected side effects, but I found out that certain people actually see that as quite valuable.”

Lucy recoiled. “Unexpected side effects? You mean, like people dying? _You_ created the potion?”

“I did say that it was valuable, right?” Emilia put her hands on her hips, and a proud smile played at her mouth. “I could give you anything right now.”

“What… how… what…” Lucy’s mouth worked. “You built a potion that steals people’s magic? And you’re selling it to a fucking dark guild?”

Emilia cocked her head. “You mean you don’t know how it works? And I always thought you were so smart. You should have at least been able to figure it out with the help of your super-talented Fairy Tail script mage.”

Lucy felt her face turn to stone. “If you’ve so much as breathed on Levy—”

“God, you’re jumpy. Relax. I am capable of admiring some brilliant women from afar.” Emilia walked over to a small table that held a decanter and a couple of wine glasses. “Drink?”

“ _Oh my god_ , Emilia, I don’t have time for—”

“And 'stealing magic' is such a crude way to put it. I designed the potion to borrow magic from wizards who had a little extra. The weaker wizard gets a little shot in their magical arm, so to speak, and the stronger wizard is temporarily inconvenienced but will eventually get back their full power. No harm, no foul.”

Lucy shook her head. “That’s what you think happens? You’ve got people chained to beds out there who are _dying_ —”

“I did say ‘designed,’” Emilia reminded her huffily. “That’s what I planned for it to do. But magical science is still an imperfect field—”

“So, what, you found some random dark guild willing to pay for a half-baked cheaters’ potion because its main side effect is killing people?” Lucy screeched.

“Oi!” Emilia snapped. “The Gorgon’s Eye is mine, thank you very much. My guild.”

Lucy stared. “You’re the master of a dark guild. Of course you are.”

Emilia sighed heavily and swished the wine in her glass. “The Gorgon’s Eye potion, in its current form, weakens a user’s connection to their own magic over a series of doses. The final dose is administered alongside a spell — that I’m not going to tell you even if you ask me very nicely — that transfers the user’s magic to a new owner.” She sipped her wine. “Or, in our case, into a shipping container. The magic’s more portable that way, more easily saleable. Better for business. No one wants to meet bacon while it’s alive, you know.”

Lucy licked her lips. “And you… you haven’t tried to fix the potion. You’ve kept it like this. Even though it was a mistake.”

“Not the first billion-dollar business to be built on a mistake.” Emilia winked. “Turns out there’s a fair number of wizards among Fiore’s magical elite who would pay a pretty penny to give their natural magic a boost, no questions asked.”

“And you’ve got people paying you to get them high on the potion in the first place,” Lucy said slowly. “So you’re making money from people who have no idea you’re stealing their magic, plus you’re making money from wizards who have no idea they’re buying dead people’s magic.”

Emilia bowed her head modestly. “The ultimate business model.”

“So the people chained to the beds…” Lucy began. “The people in the library…”

Emilia waved her glass carelessly. “The people in the library are all pretty much newbies. Or they’ve only had a couple doses. The ones in the clinic you just came through are almost ready for the last dose. They’ll even be asking for it soon. The cravings get kind of intense, apparently.”

Lucy’s heart was pounding in her chest. She was half surprised Emilia couldn’t hear it. But as her own energy surged, Loke’s magic seemed to swirl around her in thick, invisible tendrils. “You’re done killing people, Emilia.” Lucy willed the light of Loke’s Regulus power into her arms. “I’m ending this. Fairy Tail is ending this. Tonight.”

Emilia cocked her head, bemused. “Oh? Bold plan. I hope you’re prepared for disappointment.”

Lucy flicked her wrist, and a beam of energy splintered the wall behind Emilia’s head. “Fairy Tail is rarely disappointed.”

Emilia didn’t move, hadn’t so much as flinched, but her eyes narrowed. A dark, purple fog billowed softly from her hand. “Lucy, I don’t want to fight you. Come with me. I'm good enough to work alongside you now.”

Lucy sent a blade of light into the floor at Emilia’s feet. The wood split. “Release the people on the cots,” she demanded. “Open the library door and let everyone go.”

The purple fog expanded to settle over Emilia like a cloak. “I’ve been building up my magic for years, my love,” she whispered. “You can be with me, or I can destroy you. And your guild.”

“You’re covering yourself with the magic of the dead,” Lucy said darkly. “Stolen magic. Magic that will never fully obey you. Open the door. Now.”

“It obeys me enough.” A large vase on the floor at Lucy’s feet exploded.

“Lion Brilliance!” Lucy shouted, narrowly repelling the shards.

“Why are you doing this?” Emilia shouted, and Lucy was astonished to see tears welling in her eyes. “I’m just doing what you did!”

Purple fog reached out, coiling viciously at her face, and Lucy dispelled it with a Regulus Blast.

“I’m making my own way!” Emilia shrieked. “I have my own empire, I’ve created my own name!” Clouds of purple energy squeezed and grabbed and detonated, turning the small room into so much shrapnel.

“Emilia!” Lucy called, wincing as she saw glass cut into the woman’s arm. “Stop this! Please—!”

“You didn’t need your family! You were too good for them, for us, for _me!_ ” Explosions were peppered with sobs. “But I can do it all now! I can be what everyone needs! Fucking _hell!_ ” Emilia raised both hands, and a dense black cloud swirled over her head.

Lucy stared. The woman’s eyes… her old friend’s eyes… her first lover’s eyes… held a pain that was unspeakable. How had she compounded her own hurt, using this magic? This magic that had been ripped from dying wizards. Lucy could all but see the heaviness of it as it spiraled in sickly billows above her.

It was paralyzing. What must it be doing to her?

“Do you think I need a potion any more to take what I want?” Emilia screamed. She let her arms drop with an enraged, pain-filled cry, and Lucy fell to her knees.

“Emilia,” she whispered, her chest aching. “What have you done to yourself?”

The black cloud descended on her hungrily.

“ _Regulus Impact!_ ”

Brilliant white light pierced through the blackness, and Lucy’s eyes widened to see a blazing lion head swallow the last of the purple fog. It disappeared in moments with a blinding flash.

“Loke!”

The lion spirit crouched over Emilia, who lay unconscious on the ruined floor. He had a half second to look up before Lucy tackled him to his back.

“Loke, _you stupid lion_ , what are you doing here?!” Lucy grabbed his face in her hands. “You could have taken the people out, gotten everyone away to safety, _why are you in here?!_ ”

* * *

 

Loke stared up into Lucy’s face. Her hair was coming undone, there was a cut on her shoulder, and her face was red and filthy with tear-streaked makeup.

And she was here.

Alive. Whole. Healthy.

And magical.

He groaned and threw his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. “I’m never leaving you. I think that’s in my contract.”

“You stupid lion,” she sniffled again, voice muffled against his ruined tux. But she clutched his shoulders hard, and he closed his eyes to stop his own tears.

“The library’s empty,” he said quietly. “Levy broke down the spell on the door, and Natsu and Erza took control pretty much immediately.”

Lucy nodded, blonde hair wisping over his face. “Everyone okay?” she gulped.

“Well. Everyone from Fairy Tail is fine.” Loke clenched his jaw. “Levy’s trying to deconstruct the spells that are keeping people chained to the beds. And some of them are in pretty bad shape.”

He felt her shudder. “We should call Porlyusica once Levy’s got everyone loose.”

“Mm.” Loke could have lain there on the destroyed floor of the sitting room, holding this woman to him for weeks. _Well. Definitely hours. I would be okay with hours._

“Wait.” Lucy sat up. “You said Natsu and Erza took control in the library.” She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

“And they did.” Loke raised an eyebrow. “I think they’re helping the Magic Council round up some of the Gorgon’s Eye mages that got away.”

“Uh huh. So how…” She tugged at his torn lapel. “... do you look like this if they did all the work?”

Loke bit his lip, aiming for an innocent look.

….

_His breath came back to him slowly, but he felt his magic rush through him as though it had been held back by a dam._

_He wanted to scream for Lucy to stay with him, don’t follow that bitch, what are you doing, she could do anything to you! But her shoulders were squared and strong, and he doubted he could shout anyway._

_The two women disappeared, and Loke had never felt so helpless in his life. He glanced around for something, anything to break the intense magic that held the library and this horrible tiled room in its thrall._

_“Take care of them,” Lucy had told him. But—_

_The wooden door leading back into the Grand Library swung open, and a slight, purple-haired man burst through, slamming it shut behind him. His eyes, already wide with terror, nearly popped out of his head at the sight of Loke standing in front of the rows of cots._

_“Ven?” Loke whispered._

_“You!” Ven hissed. “GodDAMMit, can that woman do nothing right?”_

_Every fiber of Loke’s being instantly poised for defense. Of course. They were the only ones who had been shoved into a goddamn “tasting room.” Everyone else had been sipping their potion samples in the library. Of course. He and Lucy were meant to die here._

_“I am always cleaning up her messes.” Venom dripped from Ven’s voice. “And now we have goddamn_ Fairy Tail _banging on our door, and I am not letting them find this room, do you hear me?” Purple lightning crackled from the man’s hand. “You first. Then the canisters.”_

_“And these people?” Loke spread his arms wide. He willed his Regulus power into his hands and felt himself glow._

_Ven sneered. “They’d be dead tomorrow anyway. I’ve just adjusted their social calendar a bit.”_

_Lightning slashed through the air._

….

“I fell,” Loke offered finally.

Lucy was sitting prettily on his lap, and he loved the way she glared at him. “You fell,” she repeated.

“It was awful,” he promised.

“Loke, you horrible lion, I _swear_ —”

“Luuuuccccccyyyyyyyy!” A tiny, blue-haired wizard propelled herself through the smoldering ruins of the sitting room’s wall.

“Levy!” Lucy barely had time to wrap her arms around the little woman before she and Levy and Loke ended up in a tangled pile flat on the floor.

“Lucy, are you okay?!” Levy ran her hands over Lucy’s face and down her shoulders. “I had no idea you were in here, Loke just stopped fighting all of a sudden and pretty much ran through the wall!” She stared at Loke. “What was _that_ all about?”

“Aha, well, you see—”

“Levy! Don’t just run through every smoking mousehole you see!” The grumbling voice materialized into an enormous man with long black hair and fierce metal piercings all over his face.

“Your darling is safe with me, Gajeel, look.” Loke couldn’t resist wrapping his arms around both of the pretty mages now seated in his lap. “We’re bonding.”

Gajeel was always pretty damn intimidating, but now Loke remembered why he usually tried to stay out of the dragon slayer’s way whenever he came around Fairy Tail. It was like poking at a perpetually angry mountain.

“Enjoyin’ yerself, cat?” Gajeel crossed his arms over his massive chest.

“You’ve no idea.” Loke gave each of the women a light squeeze. He saw Lucy roll her eyes, but Levy actually squeaked, and _I’m a dead man._

“Yer done.” Gajeel reached to pull Levy off his lap.

“You know. I really hate to interrupt such a familial reunion.”

Loke froze. But only for an instant.

Then he was on his feet, pulling Lucy to his chest, flaring his magical shield in front of them as he turned. “Gajeel! Levy!” he roared, but there was no time for much more of a warning.

A purple-black cloud slammed into his shield, and he cringed under the force. “Gajeel! Out! Get out now!”

Emilia cackled in front of him, blood dripping from her hairline. Alive, awake, and on her feet, the master of the Gorgon’s Eye was quickly filling the room with her poisonous purple fog. “Fairy Tail, Fairy Tail!” she chanted. “Always here to _spoil my fun!_ ”

Another burst of purple darkness, and Loke heard his magical shield crack. “Lucy!” he shouted. He felt sweat drip from his face. “Follow the others! Get everyone out!”

“That’s _my_ line, you idiot!” she cried behind him.

He felt her hand on his shoulder, and his shield glowed brighter. He grinned humorlessly. _Fucking hell, do I have to get everything I have from her?_

“Lucy, my love, you’d better run!” Emilia sang. “Your boyfriend’s decided to play with me tonight. Oops!” She waved a hand, and the darkness pummeled the shield mercilessly. “Guess he’s decided to _die instead_.”

“Open the Gate of the Ram!” Lucy screamed. “Aries!”

 _No. No!_ Loke nearly dropped his shield, but he had to look at Lucy, had to see her face. _No. Not both of them here, not in this!_ “Aries…” he whispered. “Lucy!”

But Lucy was glaring at Emilia, pointing a familiar golden key as though it were a sword.

“I’m… I’m sorry!” A pink cloud exploded into the room. A petite, pink-haired woman crouched between Loke and Emilia. “D-don’t worry, Loke! Lucy!”

“My, my,” Emilia crooned. “What have we here? Oh, Lucy, you shouldn’t have.”

Loke stared in horror as Aries spread her arms wide. “I… I’m not here for you, you… you bitch!” Aries shouted, her voice high and thin. “Wool… Bomb!”

Loke had seen Aries’ attacks many times. Had been on the receiving end of them more than once, in fact. And on each occasion, as he watched the pink wool cloud everyone’s vision… as he saw her opponent flail against the onslaught… as he watched them breathe it in…

… as Emilia, like every one of Aries’ foes before her, went limp and her eyes glassy…

Loke wondered not for the first time if his innocent little lamb friend employed some kind of nasty hallucinogen in her fluffy pink wool.

Emilia slumped to the floor, and Aries called back the pink fluff.

Lucy started toward the unconscious mage, but Loke held her back. “We don’t know—”

Aries cut him off with a wave of her small hand. “She’ll be out for hours. You can get the Council in here and have her arrested before she’ll even come to.”

Loke’s jaw dropped.

Aries smoothed her minidress with a satisfied air. Loke recognized it. He’d bought it for her the last time they’d gone shopping. “I’m… I’m so happy you’re safe, Miss Lucy,” she trilled. “Thank you for calling me!”

“Aries.” Lucy blew out a breath. “You are incredible. Extremely quick, thank you. And _you!_ ”

Loke stepped back, hands raised. Lucy’s color was high, and her hair was wild. She looked incredibly _hot_. However, now did not seem the time—

“You,” Lucy repeated, yanking on the remnants of his tie. “Are going to take me back home, to my _real, actual_ home, and you are going to spend the next week with me in bed while you do your damnedest to make me forget how _stupid_ you were just now. Do you hear me?”

Loke stared down at her. Heat crawled up his neck, and he felt it bloom across his face. He licked his lips, not taking his eyes off hers. _Those brown eyes._ They were angry and worried and relieved and hot, and it was all for him, and he couldn’t believe it.

“You… you’re asking me to—”

“Asking? Did you hear any _asking_ going on there, lion spirit?” But a sliver of doubt had crept into her eyes, nudging the anger aside.

Lucy Heartfilia. Half imperious queen, half timid runaway. Completely owned him.   
But he didn’t have to let her know that. Not all the time.

Loke let his head fall to one side and felt her magic spike through him. “Did I not?” he asked softly. “Because I get the impression you might be interested in what the answer is.”

“You… you dumb cat,” she whispered. But she lifted her chin, and he felt a lighter tug at his tie. _God_ , he loved that.

Lucy’s lips were soft and warm, and she smelled like smoke and magic and faint perfume. He sighed against her mouth, wrapped his arms around her waist, and crushed her to him. She whimpered, just a tiny bit, and he allowed himself a pleased little laugh.

“Uh. Can I go now? Miss Lucy? I’m... I’m sorry!”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr where I'm all about fandom ([@codango](codango.tumblr.com)) aaaandd if you're into the idea, check out [Marcella Christie](http://marcellachristie.com/) for my alter ego.


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